#Also Fires: Yes clearly I am the best at this

[the-avaricious-meddler]

I also feel like if you told Fires most capitalists don't actually care about actual efficiency and it's just about making as much money as possible regardless of output. It just straight up wouldn't believe you.

[moe-broey]

Textpost redraw that only works in a modern setting, so. I gave them silly outfits (and a little bit of lore!)

Some zoom ins on the illusts!

And Lore

Moe is like. A SHUT-IN shut-in. So in any modern setting that isn't "Hey wanna visit my hometown for a sec (events so far have followed canon at least loosely)", it would have to meet Alfonse under Extremely Specific Circumstances.

And finally! Textpost under cut!

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

doctor who but i've never watched it

and so it begins again. the people asked for it. the people got it. i will ensure the people regret it.

i have never watched this show, or seen an edit, but i am a thorough researcher and i feel that i've got the essence of it.

this is what i have gathered. academicians worldwide take note.

Firstly, so I don't anger anyone, I accept and acknowledge that the tardis is blue and not yellow. My misinformation was from a Drarry fanfiction, and I had hitherto regarded Drarry fanfiction as the absolute truth.

There are doctors, and there are at least fifteen of them. At least two of them are David Tennant, which I can respect.

I'm not sure why the doctors are doctors, because I can find no trace of any medical procedure except for one doctor who licks things, which he learned from the previous doctor. If this is sufficient reason, I apologise for doubting their credentials.

On the other hand, if they are doctors thanks to a postdoctoral degree, this is also fine, though I have never seen anyone study anything. There is however a doctor, and there were people upset about her, but the fandom pointed out she set the tardis on fire, which is apparently a very doctor thing to do. Setting things on fire is absolutely something any research scholar would love, so again, apologies for doubting their credentials.

At least one doctor is gay. It is probably one of the David doctors, which checks out. He says someone, I think a dentist, is hot. I envy the maybe-dentist.

A t least one doctor is trans. I was unable to find them. But they exist. Oh yes, the fandom assures me they exist.

David Tennant as well as Ncuti Gatwa were fanboys, first of the show, and second of David Tennant, and thus they got into acting. Just a fun tidbit from me, since I am now the authority on this fandom.

There are time machines with which the doctors have sex by piloting them, which is questionable because the time machines are only partially sentient. I am not sure if the time machines are the tardis. But the tardis is blue, and not yellow, of that I am certain.

There was a stage play. Or maybe that was a metaphor for the production budget of the early seasons. I am not sure, but toddler David Tennant watched it. I assume no one took a 3 year old to a stage play, so through scientific deduction, it must have been a metaphor.

At some point, Death is an agony aunt and they have to spill secrets to it, or drown in a lake of human skulls. Who is this they? It's so obvious that the fandom sees no need to explain it, and neither do I. I do know it though. Of that you may remain certain.

A David doctor has a niece and she likes being his niece.

A David doctor has a best friend named Donna. He kisses her head. She supports his fruitiness. It is wholesome. It killed him when he lost her.

Slight tangent, but younger David doctor looks like Andrew Garfield. Current David in photos does give Ben Barnes energy. Any Wolfstar shippers, I believe you've found the Wolfstar kid. It is David Tennant.

A lot of people are David Tennant. A reliable Pinterest post on Doctor Who, clearly well researched, gave me the statistic that 15% of Doctor Who is David Tennant. From the amount of David Tennant that I ran across in my research, I don't understand it but I don't doubt it, either.

Speaking of Andrew Garfield, he in involved in this somehow. I am not sure how, but you cannot escape Andrew Garfield. He is even a part of fandoms he never acted in.

There is an individual named Catherine, I think she is the actress, but she could be a character. She seems to have much less knowledge about Doctor Who lore than I do. David Tennant finds it funny. Maybe he would find me funny, too.

The doctors installed some things in the tardis, from a wheelchair ramp to a jukebox. I don't know why a jukebox was needed. If I'm honest I don't know what a jukebox is. I don't know what the tardis is. But it is blue, and not yellow.

There is a French catchphrase.

Something happens in Wales. I don't know what it is, but something always seems to be happening in Wales in these fandoms, so I don't doubt it.

There is an old Doctor Who in a wheelchair, and he is happy to see a David doctor.

They go around in space, and do things. Who is this they? You and I both know the answer, so we needn't talk about it.

The show intro is "doo wee doo".

There is an alien who is not a mouse, the alien is The Meep, and uses the definite article as pronouns. David doctor is supportive of this, which is very good.

I found baby Yoda in the show, but apparently they call it a 'goblin' there, and someone doesn't like it.

There is a lot to do with time. There is a time hole, and things happen, and people die and are resurrected. There is danger, but it is fun.

They have CGI, and it is not good, which is the best thing about it. Who is they? Please stop asking me. It is rather obvious and something I definitely know.

Someone's boyfriend dies and the boyfriend is then resurrected but then gets lost with his boyfriend but then is reincarnated as a girl who would still call herself the someone's boyfriend but then she is replaced by the boyfriend but he's different now. I apologise for any errors that have crept it, but the tardis is blue and not yellow.

Someone named Martha is a doctor, and someone is very proud of her for it.

The eleventh and twelfth doctors like bow ties.

David Tennant wants to be ginger. David Tennant always gets what he wants. Who can refuse David Tennant? David Tennant is then ginger.

A David doctor gets a happy ending.

Someone yelled at Neil Gaiman about this. It was a mistake. He said that since it had already been done, he wouldn't want to give David's character a happy ending in S3, that would be a trifle unoriginal.

A lesson to be learned, Good Omens fandom, just a bit of advice from your son, do not yell at Neil Gaiman, it does not go well. Rumour has it he murdered the people who complained about him always wearing black. Of course, there is the fact that he doesn't exist, but that doesn't seem to have stopped him.

The doctors manifest in the previous doctor's clothes, which is apparently so last season. The tardis also manifests. I don't know where, or how. But it is blue, and not yellow.

I know, there was a lot of lore, so many of you thought I wouldn't be able to gather it all. But look how much research I did! I've got it better than maybe-actress-maybe-character Catherine, I'm sure :"]

Anyway, all the major plot points are covered above, so anyone who hasn't watched Doctor Who, feel free to refer to this and impress your Whovian friends with your knowledge! [not to be judgemental, but what a dreadfully Dr Seuss name, I rather like it]

[m0llygunn]

deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.

contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+

───── ⋆⋅��⋅⋆ ─────

“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.

All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 

“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.

You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.

“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.

“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”

You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 

No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.

From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 

Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.

You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.

You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 

“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 

“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.

“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.

“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 

“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 

“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 

The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.

“Did you take anything?” he asks. 

“It’s been a few hours.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 

“Right, so no food.” 

“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.

“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 

“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”

“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 

“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 

You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 

“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 

“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 

“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 

You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”

Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 

He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 

“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”

“Mhm” you hum.

“You have nasal congestion?”

You sniffle loudly and nod.

“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”

You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 

“Chest congestion?”

Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 

“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.

You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.

“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.

“I want to die,”

“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”

Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 

When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 

“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.

“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 

“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.

“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.

“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 

You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 

“I’ll be fine,”

“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 

You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.

“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.

When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”

“Where do you put it?”

“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”

You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 

“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.

“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 

He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.

The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 

Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.

“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.

The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 

You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 

Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 

“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 

“Any.” 

“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.

“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 

“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 

With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 

When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 

“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 

You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 

“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 

Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.

“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”

Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.

As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.

“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.

Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.

“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.

Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.

“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly.

“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.

You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.

“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.

Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.

“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.

“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 

You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 

“Crackers?” Eddie offers.

“Maybe one.”

“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 

You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Tired,” you answer. 

“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.

“Can’t,” you reply.

“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.

“Eddie—” you try to protest.

“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 

You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 

“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”

“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 

Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”

“Don’t want to,”

“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.

“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.

Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.

It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 

“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”

It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 

“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”

He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.

“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 

As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 

It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 

Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.

Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 

The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 

Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.

You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 

The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.

“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.

You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 

“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.

“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 

“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 

From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you! <3

[astronicht]

Hi I hope this isn't presumptuous, but so, that post you made about Tolkien making the lads leave their weapons outside the hall and CS Lewis thinking the hall was gonna get burned down by a lady who also wanted to kill herself... what's the historical precedent for that? Is there a trope in medieval lit where people like... do that? I ask because uh. I am obsessed with Children of Hurin and there's a scene where that like, happens. And I'm obsessed with that scene, and would love to know if there's like, cultural/mythic context that would enrich my knowledge!

OH BOY, sorry I'm getting to this late, it's been uhhh a summer, but one, this is a very good question!! And two, yes there is absolutely precedent, particularly in early medieval literature, and high medieval literature set in the early medieval (circa 500-1100 AD) past. I'll let someone else debate how often people actually historically locked their enemies into a hall and burned them, but especially in Old Norse literature (and if Fellowship felt like it leaned a little more on Old English literature, Two Towers, where Eowyn appears, felt a little more Old Norse) this is common. Off the top of my head, you've got many Icelandic family feuds ending in burning the whole family in their hall, like Njal's Saga (Old Norse), Attila the Hun dramas (yeah he's a big guy in the burning halls circuit, but actually not in the way you might expect) like his cameos in Volsung Saga (Old Norse) and Nibelungelied (Middle High German), and my vague recollection of a few Irish and Welsh versions that no search engine is giving up for me right now.

This, predictably, got long and slightly off topic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I should say I come from an Old English-centric background, and Old English literature is actually notable among all its neighbors for not burning down too many halls. Second disclaimer, all links are not proper citations, they just go to wiki.

Hall-burning in literature is, to my understanding, part of the concerns of a few early medieval cultures in which revenge is not only expected but in many cases legally reinforced and codified, and one in which conflicts could spiral to engulf -- figuratively, or literally and in flames -- entire families. Many medieval Icelandic sagas are focused on this exact type of destruction of whole families or friendship/community units. Most relevant of these to Eowyn, Two Towers, and the vibes of Edoras (since alas I am only partway into RotK and can't speak to Children of Hurin yet!) is Volsung Saga, which is set on the Continent, not Iceland, and actually has to do with Attila the Hun. As mentioned before, an incredible amount of stuff turns out to have to do with Attila. We will come back to him!

So, on the particular post you're talking about, a few people iirc have replied pointing out that the hall in TT is clearly supposed to be based on a hall from Old English literature, namely the hall in Beowulf, which famously did not actually get burnt down. And that's all true! I was not posting with much nuance; I was mostly having a joke at the expense of CS Lewis. However, I was also referencing a very very common trope in Old Norse/early medieval stories, and I personally think JRR was as well (AND I think Beowulf was also very consciously referencing the exact same motif anyway) (no one has to agree with me, a tumblr blog, on any of these points).

The thing about the hall when our heroes approach is that the scariest damn thing in that hall is Eowyn. Certainly not every hall-burning story requires a woman with no other recourse to set the fire (in fact, the "warrior band approaches unknown hall which might have a grudge against them" is a trope that can get you killed in a pretty homosocial environment, as I guess Aragorn at least was aware, being a big reader). Still, the presence of a woman who is swiftly running out of options does fit what I'd consider one of the or perhaps The best known version of the early medieval burning hall trope: Gudrun, who shows up in at least a dozen different texts in both the Scandinavian and the German language traditions, including Volsung Saga, a text which itself often gets paraded around as the basis of lotr (which I'm sure it is, in that JRR appears to have simply and very fairly based lotr on every piece of early medieval vernacular literature I can think of).

In a portion of Gudrun's story (which of course changes a bit in each retelling), after her first marriage she is unhappily married to Atli, who is none other than our main man Attila the Hun. After Attila kills her brothers for reasons (in one version, her father), seeing no other way to take the necessary revenge and no other way out, she kills the two sons she had by him, serves them to Attila for dinner, has Attila killed, and then sets fire to the hall with everyone in it. After this, she attempts to drown herself.

The self-destruction of this act is a really important beat, and has only gotten more-so as a comparison to Eowyn the further I've read into RotK (currently, I'm at the houses of healing after merry and eowyn take on the witch king). It's a lot clearer in the book than the films, for me, that Eowyn going off to battle was not so a straightforward empowering and/or freeing move, despite allowing her some agency, but more the one path she saw as available to her with which to die with honor (which was pretty much exactly what Gudrun was facing as well). Like Gudrun, whose first husband was a great hero but has died, Eowyn's romantic choice is a hero who is presumed dead (sorry Aragorn they did Not believe in your ghost skills). In fact, in some versions Gudrun does put on armor and fight with her brothers before they're killed. She kills Attila with her own hand, with the help of another man who needs to avenge a blood feud against Attila.

So while Eowyn didn't get forced into marriage to Attila Wormtongue (with apologies to both historical Attila and that one historical skald also called Wormtongue who was reportedly hot) and burn the whole place down, she's still trapped, and like Gudrun chooses destruction alongside her household.

Reading her arc feels so much like watching Tolkien write a fix-it for Gudrun. What if she got this one little chance, and this one other little chance, and this one more -- tiny little shifts in the narrative that allow her to get out, and not through fire, and not through death.

Anyway, this got away from me. I hope it added some context to the Children of Hurin arson case! Thanks for the ask

[silversurfersx]

Beautiful Man

jenson button × platonic!reader × lando norris

-in which lando is a snitch

mentioning to lando who you thought was the most beautiful f1 driver might have been a mistake

Being friends with Lando has it's ups and downs, one good thing was meeting Max Farewell and one bad thing was Lando itself. Now not to mistake the absolute joy in person Lando represents, bringing a smile to your face on several occasions, but that boy could talk. And how he loved to do exactly that.

Having an interview session with Jenson Button gave him exactly that opportunity. And with newly revealed information he just couldn't help himself. He didn't even know when it slipped out of how it came up, but it did. The fact that you were in fact standing right between him and Jenson didn't matter.

"Oh, did you know that Y/N thinks you are the hottest F1 driver." He announced smiling cheekily. His boyish face lightened up with a teasing expression. Your divers senses locked in when you realised the words and your head shot over at him. Your eyes wide and mouth agape, while you head a deep laugh from beside you, clearly coming from Jenson.

"Lando!" You called out. "What the fuck, mate?"

Joining into Jenson's laughter the british men found the whole thing hilarious, completely opposite to you, who didn't know what to feel or think. For a moment embarrassment was all that filled you, but then you became achingly aware that people were staring and if you made it embarrassing now, it would be haunting you for a lot longer than if you just pretended and played it cool.

"I mean, I take it as a compliment." Jenson said smirking at you. Playfully you shook your head, shaking off the embarrassment and turned to Lando.

"See what you did there, Lan? Now he's getting all cocky." You said in mock seriousness pointing at Jenson next to you, getting more laughs from him and Lando. You too chuckled lightly.

"How is it my fault, I was just quoting you?" Lando argued hand on his heart as you pusred your lip. "I did not say he was the hottest driver. I just said that I thought he was the most beautiful one. I mean have you seen his face?"

Jenson only smirked more at the continuing compliments, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. From the corner of your eye you saw exactly that and a sense of regret build up in you. You could have just let the whole tying go, but as often you spoke before you thought, riding yourself further in the embarrassing situation.

Groaning internally you cursed yourself out for all the things you just said. On the outside though you tried to stay strong and not let the situation get to you. The blush on your cheeks didn't agree with your internal desicion.

"Lando, I think we should stop before Y/N dies from embarrassment. And although I am quite flattered by your very truthful confession, I think that we should probably move on." Jenson said, noticing your blushing cheeks and Lando's cheeky look as he looked at you.

"Yes!" You said almost all to eager. "Thank you Jenson!"

"Also, I am sadly in fact already married." The blonde added just to put a bit more oil in the fire of embarrassment. Groaning you put a hand on your face, hiding behind it, as Jenson chuckled and Lando giggled at you embarrassment.

But Lando wouldn't be yone of our best friends, if he didn't have something else to add. "Oh she knows. She had a funeral for the posters of you in her room when she found out."

It was a quick reaction from your side that resulted in you knocking your microphone into Lando's jewels. Smiling at the groan of paing coming from him before you turned towards Jenson who didn't quite know how to feel.

"He is lying about that part. I never had a poster of you in my room, I swear on my car." You announced to him, eyes wide a expression all serious. You needed to keep at least some of your pride. And Lando was in fact lying, about the funeral, not the posters, that was a lie from you.

Jenson looked over at Lando, holding a hand in front of the spot you hit his face in a grimace. Complementing about your possible reactions, Jenson just agreed. "I don't doubt a word you say."

He did, but he didn't say that.

[w4dows]

i told you so

wanda maximoff x fem! reader

cw: internalized homophobia, pining, eventual (light) smut - i am not responsible for the content you consume

word count: 1.7k

summary: from the moment you'd met wanda, you'd been enamoured, but being in love with your best friend when she's in a long-term relationship with her boyfriend, Vision, really wasn't good for your heart.

a/n: yes this was inspired by Chapell Roan "Good Luck, Babe!"

you had kissed wanda once, and you don’t think you’d ever forget it.

the club she had persuaded you to go to with her was a jumble of sweaty drunk people in a dingy, sweaty bar, and you lost wanda - you think she said she was going to get a drink, but to be honest, you were just staring at her lips. her pillowed lips were pinked by a lip gloss, a lip gloss that you very proudly had bought for her. she taps on your shoulder, and you look at her, your breath hitching in your throat; god, she was beautiful - and also very drunk.

somehow you let yourself be dragged into joining the clutter of people who were dancing, and you find your hands on wanda’s hips as she dances, one of the few & rare carefree moments she has. your lips quirk up into a smile, with affection shining so brightly in your eyes as you watched the red haired girl, affection that was purely for wanda. 

she looks at you, her piercing green eyes much fonder than usual, cleared of the usual stress and worry that hid away in them, and she cupped your face in her hands. her hands were sweaty, so was your face - but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when she was holding your face as if it was fragile goods. 

“wands?” you murmur softly, your faces so close that she can hear you over the loud bass of the club, over the horrible DJ’s remixes. 

“you look pretty tonight - can i kiss you?” she whispers, her eyes trained on your lips, and your breath hitches in your throat, unable to do anything but nod.

god, when her lips met yours you thought the world might explode. the kiss was tender, soft even, and as you both pulled away breathlessly, she looked at you. you thought this might be the start for something real between you and wanda, but instead -

“want me to get you a refill?”

'no i want you to kiss me again and never stop,' you thought.

you nodded dumbly instead.

--

you had first met the girl when she was a shell of the woman she is now, she had just been recruited as an avenger. you were the one in her earpiece, guiding her through her missions as a very nervous wanda acclimatized to being an avenger and helping people.

you were there for her when she had failed her first mission, when she opened up about sokovia and how much she missed her twin brother, and she was there for you when you spoke of the stress of your job, and the worry you had for every avenger. the 2 of you quickly found yourselves becoming close with each other, and there was barely a moment that you weren’t

until vision came along. after wanda kissed you, the both of you hadn’t spoken about it again, opting to go on with the party as if everything was normal. a week later, she finally accepted visions’ advances.

--

wanda was fickle - she craved love. she had been taught between good and bad from a young age, and loving a girl - no, loving you, was simply not good. so she settled, she settled for Vision. he was a sweet boy, who clearly had it bad for her. she tried to love him, she really did, but every time he'd touch her, every time he'd kiss her, she couldn't help but wonder; would you be as soft as you looked when you'd kiss her? would you be gentle with her, or would you let the fire of desire consume you?

loving wanda was like a fire, not just because of her uncanny resemblance to one in personality & physical features; her burning embers of auburn hair, her fiery resilience. loving her was something that kept you comfortable, made your heart warm, but it could quickly turn into something more dangerous, something more damaging if not taken care of properly - which is how your 'friendship' ended.

--

your friendship with wanda, full of yearning and pining, had come to an unfortunate halt when you had just enough of wanda & visions relationship, or should you say, “relationship.” 

she had invited you out to brunch, which you eagerly accepted, wanda doesn’t get many days off. you guys were at your favorite spot, sipping on cocktails as you chatted, until vision was brought up. 

“i really don’t understand why it bothers you so much,” she remarks, after you’d rolled at some story about vision doing the bare minimum and wanda gushing over him. 

“you deserve someone who would treat you good wands,” you remark bitterly, sick of biting your tongue when it came to discussing her relationship

“he treats me just fine-”

“I could treat you better wands,” you interrupt, you were done hiding how you felt, especially when vision wasn’t treating wanda as good as you could.

“what do you mean?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.

you take a deep breath before speaking, “i mean that i love you wanda- i have for a long time.”

her face falls.

so does yours.

“you can’t love me-”

“thanks-a-fucking-lot wanda! tell me how i’m supposed to stop loving someone you, tell me,” you were practically begging; god, you were so tired of pining. 

“why do you love me when you know i can't- shouldn't love you back?” she practically whispers, rolling her bottom lip through her teeth

“wanda-”

“i cant-” 

before she can even finish talking, you grab your wallet, placing some bills on the table to cover brunch

“wands, i can’t do this anymore - i need time,” you mutter, trying to blink back tears as you walk out of the quaint brunch spot, desperately trying not to look back at her.

--

wanda was a mess without you. what was the point of being an avenger, of saving people, if she didn’t have you in her earpiece, guiding her through it, assuring her that everytime was going to be okay - you always made everything okay. 

she missed you. 

but she also didn’t have the right to miss you.

so she threw herself into missions, into making the world a better place (and avoiding vision)

2 weeks later she broke up with him.

to his credit, he took it well - at least better than most would.

--

she stood, small and timid on your doorstep as knocks; it was much too late at night for you to be anywhere else.

her head was pounding, a flurry of unkempt thoughts as she heard your footsteps approach the door. yet, as soon as you opened it and she saw your face, they quieted; it was just, you.

god, she missed you.

your eyebrows furrowed, meeting perfectly in the middle, before you decided to speak. "wands, what are you doing here?" you questioned, your tone not harsh, but it was lacking the usual warmth you stowed away for wanda.

"i left vision"

"oh."

"i left vision because i love you"

"oh."

"..." she stood there, looking so shy, eagerly waiting for your response, and all you could think to say was 'oh.' - you loved wanda, of course you did, but you weren't exactly sure how to tell her you loved her too. you were so caught up in your head that you didn't catch the way wanda's face fell - did she make a mistake telling you?

she took a deep breath, braving herself to speak before continuing, "if you dont feel the same way its fin-"

"i love you too wanda. i love you so much that i think the world might explode," you blurt out; now it was wanda's turn to be shocked. both of you clearly weren't expecting that response, and all you could do was stare at the other, millions of unspoken words and thoughts between you.

“wands, come in,” you murmur, and god had she missed this.

--

you quickly find your lips pressed against wanda’s, teeth clicking against each other as your hands tangle in her flaming hair, deepening the kiss. you were desperate to feel her, to touch her, as was she.

she tasted the same she did from that night at the bar, but this was much more raw, much more primal. neither of you objected as your hands made their way onto her ass, holding it as she deepened the kiss.

you broke the kiss, both of you breathless and panting, your chests rising and falling in sync as the both of you tried to catch your breath.

"touch me, please," she whispers, her lips plump and swollen from your kisses, and god, all she wanted was your touch.

"are you sure?" you murmur, and all she had to do was nod before you helped her tug off her sweatshirt and sweatpants. she was standing before you, vulnerable & so beautiful as she looked at you, her pupils blown with lust. her pearly skin was on display, and you could see every freckle, every birthmark, every scar. 

"god wands, you're beautiful."

her face tinges with red, and you can't help the soft chuckle that escapes your throat, pressing another soft kiss to her lips.

you waste no time in stripping down, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses onto wanda’s neck, and you felt like you were on fire. you take your time coaxing sweet noises out of the redhead, enjoying every moan and whimper you elicited, savoring them. kissing down her neck and moving onto her collarbones paying special attention to that one spot that coaxed the sweetest little moans out of her. 

she whined impatiently as you toyed with her breasts, tugging and toying with her sensitive nipples. god, she was so beautiful; head thrown back, soft moans falling out of her mouth.

to what feels like years to wanda, you finally make yourself in between her legs, god she was wet. you look up at her, “is this okay, beautiful?” you mummur, and she nods. 

“words, baby”

“yes, god yes,” she rasps, and you press a kiss to her inner thigh before diving in

–

by the end of the night, you’d kissed wanda maximoff a total of 27 times. 

[cambion-companion]

“Just let me finish this and I swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.” (144) lets get down to bussines

Part 2 of "Spray of Blood"

Word count: 2724

reader gets lost trying to run back to King's Landing and Aemond, still splattered in blood, has to find her and bring her back to safety.

haha this is a joint effort it seems! Also I have wanted to write reader sitting on Aemond's face so thank you for #86

28. i’m just getting comfy

74. “Do you want me to stay?”

86. “don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs”

Aemond x wife!reader | smutty ending | 18+ only | fluff and a sprinkle of angst | Aemond isn't super happy lmao

You were lost.

Cursing, you stopped in the middle of the empty street, turning on the spot, surveying your unfamiliar surroundings.

"Fuck me sideways." You muttered, taking a moment to rub your aching temples.

You had indulged in too much spiced wine at the festival, muddling your already questionable orienteering skills.

"If the lady insists." A hissing voice accompanied a slender man emerging from the shadows of a stone building.

He held no weapon, seeming to think you easy prey as he strode forward, already unbuckling his trousers.

You still held the stone you had picked up when Aemond had confronted the men in the market, and so you collected your frayed nerves, taking careful aim as Aemond had taught you.

You threw the shard of brick, it struck true with a dull thud to the man's head. He went down like a sack of flour, hitting the damp cobblestones with a dull thud.

Shaking, you hurried on your way, in the direction you hoped the Red Keep was in. At least you were still walking uphill, that seemed to be a good sign.

After a few minutes of meandering, warm yellow light fell upon your face, a tavern in front of you that appeared cozy and welcoming. As you entered, you noticed a few other patrons, but the dining area and counter was mostly empty. A squat looking man was stacking dishware behind the bar counter as you took a seat.

He gave you a cursory glance with a raised eyebrow, you shifted to hide the fine fabric of your dress beneath the cloak you still wore. You pulled back your hood, wanting to be recognizable if Aemond passed the window searching for you.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked in a gruff baritone, seeming not to care what brought you to his establishment so long as you had gold.

"Do you have hot tea? Or something non-alcoholic?" You asked. "I just came from the fire festival and had a bit too much to drink there."

"Ah I see!" The man smiled, his ruddy cheeks reflecting the candlelight. "Yes, I can get you some green tea brewed up. Does wonders for a hangover."

"Thank you."

Minutes passed, turning to hours as you sat at the uncomfortable wooden table. You drank several mugs of steaming earthy tea, enjoying the way it warmed your body from the inside out.

"Are ye waiting for someone?" The bartender looked at you quizzically, clearly wondering why you were remaining for so long. All the other patrons had left for their homes by now.

"Yes, my husband."

"You're lost?"

You shifted uneasily in your seat, casting him a wary glance.

He raised his hands, a towel draped over his shoulder. "I mean you no harm miss, but if you'd like directions, I can give them." He glanced outside at the dark streets. "Though perhaps it best if you wait here, it's not safe for anyone to be wandering about right now."

"Where am I?"

He chuckled looked at you with a fatherly smile. "Outskirts of Flea Bottom."

You groaned.

"Not where you intended to be I expect. Not wearing a dress like that."

You shifted your cloak to cover yourself better.

"You have nothing to fear from me." The keeper reiterated. "I'll not cast you out till your husband comes to fetch you."

"Thank you." You lay your head upon your hands, staring glassy eyed out the window, praying to all the gods Aemond would find you.

You had fallen into a doze, jolted awake by the sound of the inn door slamming open and the exclamation of the barkeep still behind his counter.

Aemond, glorious with his shining hair and piercing violet eye, strode into the tavern, his gaze locked onto you.

"My-my prince! What an unexpected..." The tavern keeper trailed off as he watched Aemond walking purposefully toward you.

You rose from your seat, throwing your arms around Aemond's neck as he pulled you against him, his hands at your back, stroking soothingly as he kissed your ear.

You tried your best not to sob. "Aemond, I got lost."

"You're the wife of Aemond Targaryen?"

The two of you broke apart to turn to the front of the room, where the keeper was bowing low.

"He helped keep me safe." You interlocked your fingers with Aemond's.

Your husband stepped up to the rough wood counter, depositing a bag of clinking coins onto its surface. "You have my gratitude."

The man continued to bow, averting his gaze. Aemond made a soft "hmm" in the back of his throat, guiding you out of the warm room into the cool night air.

You didn't get far before he pulled you to a stop, his taut face illuminated silver in the moonlight. "I've been searching for you for hours, Y/N."

"I-"

He held up a hand to stop you from speaking. "You were not in our rooms. So, I returned to the square as quickly as I could, asking anyone still outside if they had seen you."

You looked down at your feet guiltily as Aemond continued.

"Imagine my surprise when I find a man collapsed upon the ground, a stone beside him and a lump on his forehead."

"He...had ill intentions." You whispered, still studying your shoes.

"Hmm. A shame I left him alive then." Aemond's fingers hooked under your chin, pulling your face to look up at him. "However, that is how I found you sitting in that tavern."

You slowly moved forward, tentatively wrapping your arms around Aemond's waist. You could tell how worn and anxious he was, specks of blood still upon his tunic from the men he'd dispatched earlier that evening.

"Aemond, I'm sorry for getting lost. I...was panicking and a little drunk." You smiled weakly as his face softened, his lilac eye roving your features as you rubbed small circles to the small of his back.

"I had intended this to be a relaxing evening of fun." Aemond said, giving a short laugh of derision. He cupped your face in his hands. You noticed they shook slightly. "I was beside myself with worry, Y/N." He brushed his soft lips to yours gently. "This is not a place for a woman to wander alone."

"You have me safe now, Aemond."

"And safe is where I will keep you."

He kissed you firmly, slanting his mouth over yours, his fingers tangling in your hair as you made a soft noise against him. In the tension of his body against your own you felt how worked up he was from the events of the night, the intensity with which he kissed you promised bruised lips in the morning.

“If we weren’t in public right now I'd have my head between your legs."

"Aemond." You whispered, shocked, as you checked over your shoulder for anyone listening. The streets were luckily empty, though several windows were wide open.

"Come." The prince grasped your hand firmly in his and began leading you in the correct direction of the Red Keep.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the welcome sight of your chambers, lit with the orange glow of a blazing fire in the hearth that you immediately crossed to stand before, warming your hands.

Your large, clawed bathtub sat full of steaming water in the middle of the room.

Aemond came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I had the servants draw a bath for your return, we are fortunate it seems to still be hot."

You felt him beginning to loosen the ties of your dress. "Do you want me to stay?" He asked, nuzzling into your neck. "I'd understand if you need to be alone. It has been a...difficult evening."

"Please stay, Aemond. I need you with me, especially right now."

He kissed your neck and resumed undoing your dress. You smiled to yourself at his evident eagerness to see you laid bare before him.

The fabric of your dress and undergarments pooled around your feet, you leaned into Aemond's warm touch as he fondled the curves of your ass and hips with one hand, his other reaching around to stroke at your breasts.

You turned to him, allowing his gaze to roam your firelit body. "You are still covered in blood, my lord husband." Your wandering fingers began undoing the clasps of his own clothing, shedding each garment with tender care until he was as naked as you, his thick member already standing at attention.

You smiled coyly at him, allowing him to support your balance as you stepped into the hot water of the bath. You sank down into the silken water, scooting forward enough for Aemond to take his place behind you.

You pressed your back against him, your hands running along his legs as they caged your body, his arms wrapping around your torso.

"I'm just getting comfy." You murmured, leaning back so that your head rested against Aemond's chest, looking up at his adoring gaze.

He had removed his eyepatch, the sapphire gemstone glittering dazzlingly by the reflection of firelight against the water that now lapped against the edges of the wooden tub.

The two of you rested like this together, rubbing each other down with soap and wash cloths. You took your time cleansing Aemond's skin, feeling the knots in his tense muscles and kneading them loose, his eye fluttered shut at your loving attentions.

Only when the water had cooled and the two of you began to shiver, did you exit the bath, helping each other towel down until you were relatively dry. Aemond grabbed your waist, pulling you in for another scorching kiss, one of many he'd bestowed upon you that night.

"Lay on the bed for me."

You obeyed, perhaps misinterpreting his meaning as you wrapped yourself in your nightrobe before getting comfortable in bed. You watched Aemond from your cocoon of blankets as he busied himself trying to get the stains out of his tunic and undershirt.

"Aemond..." You called quietly, trying to entice him over with the lilt of your voice.

"The blood has set into the fabric long enough, Y/N. Give me a moment to try and lift it."

"Aemond." You wiggled beneath the covers, seeking to draw his gaze.

“Just let me finish this and I swear I'll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

"If you don't come over here now, I'm going to start touching myself."

You knew just what to threaten.

With a growl, Aemond threw down his ruined shirt upon the sofa, striding to the bed and throwing the blankets off your body. "Take that off." His dilated eye took in your tantalizing curves wrapped up in your fluffy nightrobe.

"I'm cold."

"Do not tease me anymore this eve." Aemond crawled over your prone form, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip. "You heard me. Take. It. Off."

You undid the tie around your waist, shifting the fabric off, exposing yourself once more to your husband's eager touch. His fingers rolled your pebbling nipples, tugging at your flesh, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as you arched into him.

"Already so wet for me." Aemond murmured against your lips, his hand cupping your sex, feeling between your slick folds.

You gasped at the feeling of him exploring you. In a fluid motion, you rolled your entwined bodies over, shifting to sit on his torso, looking down at Aemond's face, his curved lips parted in surprise.

"I want to be on top." You could barely speak, so entranced you were at the sight of him laid beneath you, his silver hair spread out atop the pillows. "Let me do this, please."

You rocked your hips, feeling his hard arousal beneath you as you stroked your vulva along Aemond's shaft. His eyelid fluttered at the sensation, his hands rising to grip your hips as you lost yourself in the feeling of him.

"Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

Your mouth parted, Aemond tugged you a little forward by his grip on your hips. "Are-are you sure I won't suffocate you?"

Aemond laughed. "If you do, I couldn't think of a better way to go."

Heat pooled in your belly as you scooted forward, bracing your hands against the bedframe as you hovered on your knees over Aemond's face. "You're sure?"

"Y/N."

Aemond rose just enough to tease your entrance with his nose, nuzzling against your swollen clit. You gasped, lowered yourself rather gracelessly onto his angular face.

You quivered, feeling Aemond's tongue working against you as you rocked gently against him. His chin, his nose all pressed against your most sensitive parts. The wet sound of him lapping up your essence filled the darkened room.

"Oh Aemond." You gripped the bedframe tighter, making sure to not actually suffocate your husband with your cunt no matter how he tried to pull you more against his searching mouth, his fingers pressing deep against the flesh of your thighs.

He grunted, the vibration of his voice causing you to clench around the tip of his tongue as he fucked it into you. His nose continued pressing and rubbing against your clit, Aemond moving his whole face with your movements as you began to grind down on him, losing your self control.

His name spilled from your panting mouth, your climax rushing over you like waves upon the sea cliffs. Aemond drank you down eagerly, his tongue lapping you up as though you tasted of the finest wine. You rode out your orgasm on his face, your legs shaking as you lifted yourself off him, collapsing to the mattress as your husband rolled over you once more. His hair was a mess, his lips and chin soaked from your juices. You bit your bottom lip at the lewd sight, his eye tracking the movement.

Aemond kissed you, more gently than you had anticipated, his tongue searching your mouth, allowing you to taste your own release as he lined his cock to your entrance. You gripped the back of his head, gasping against him as he sunk slowly into you. Aemond's breath filled your lungs as his cock stretched you out deliciously, filling you until he was fully seated within your still quivering walls.

Aemond broke your kiss, pulling away enough to watch your face as he began rutting into you. His gentleness gave way to a rougher, more desperate pace, his cock brushing your cervix with every punishing stroke. You clung to him, your legs rising instinctively to allow him deeper access.

"Y/N." Aemond breathed your name like a prayer, his chest still flush against your own as he nibbled the shell of your ear. "I can feel you tightening around me." You cried out as he increased his pace still more, fucking you deep into the mattress. "I need you to come. Show me you're mine." His cock twitched inside you. "Mine alone to claim."

"I am yours, Aemond." You felt your second orgasm of the night begin to rush through your body, your spasming quim already beginning to milk his member. "Forever yours."

Your name, so sweet on Aemond's tongue, filled the night air, mingling with your wordless moans of ecstasy as your husband spilled his hot seed within your clenching cunt. He pushed himself as deep into you as he could, remaining rooted there until you had both come down from the high of your climax.

Your legs were shaking in earnest now, Aemond reluctantly pulled away, his cum spilling out of you onto the now ruined bedsheets. Exhausted, satiated, and heedless of the mess you'd made, Aemond pulled you against him, encasing you in his arms. He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you made a pillow of his chest, his legs still tangled with your own.

Sleep took you quickly, a lock of Aemond's silken hair wrapped around your forefinger as you had a habit of doing when seeking comfort.

Aemond lay awake for a long while after you had drifted off, his mind still alive with the fear and rage that had consumed him mere hours before. Bedding you had taken the edge off, however the many gruesome possibilities of what could have happened remained unbidden and unwelcome.

He held you tighter against his lithe body, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of your chest on his, the light snores emitting from your slack mouth. Eventually exhaustion overtook Aemond, his eye falling closed, his lips still pressed to your head even in sleep.

[astarion-approves]

drabble req? :) would love to see some astarion working on comforting or patching up tav/reader — there’s a lot of hurt/comfort in the other direction out there but soft!astarion is so cute :’) love your work btw! <3

Astarion x GN! Reader drabble (695 words)

SFW, Astarion POV, third person POV, Fluff, shitty pep talks (which I am also not great at,) no patching up but it's kinda cute anyway. A touch of jealous Gale

----

“Astarion,” Gale began, the human always tiptoeing around him since the beginning. “Could you…” He shook his head, the man looking unsure with his next words. “Could you check in on Tav?”

Astarion sighed and closed his book, his eyes flicking to the fireplace where Tav sat alone and poked at the fire. “And just why would I do that?”

“Look,” Gale clenched his teeth together, looking over his shoulder to where Tav sat before looking to Astarion once more. “They obviously have feeling for you—“

“Hah! Well that's no surprise. After all, no one can deny my charms—“

“And you obviously have feelings for them.” Gale’s tone was firm, his eyes harsh as he glared back at the vampire, a tint of jealousy swimming beneath it.

Astarion tossed his book into his tent, his arms coming to cross over his chest as he glared right back at Gale. “And so what if I do?!” Now he swung his hands in front of himself, gesturing past Gale and to where Tav still sat. “What the hell do you expect me to do!? Go over there and tell them everything is going to be okay?! That all of the evil in the world will never get to them because I’ll protect them from it?! That these fucking tadpoles in our brains mean no harm and that we’ll all live happily ever after?!”

“Yes,” Gale replied. “That is exactly what I expect you to do.”

Astarion dropped his arms to his sides, pouting at Gale’s answer. He sighed. “Fine!”

Shoving past Gale he made his way to Tav, rubbing his now injured shoulder. He may have overreacted just a tiny bit, but the way Gale stumbled from his shoulder check was worth it.

“Hello, Tav,” Astarion sat down beside them without an invitation.

“Hey.” They gave Astarion a small smile but turned their attention back to the fire.

“I think it’s best if we’re just honest with one another here,” Astarion said with a shrug. “Being friends and all.”

Tav only hummed in reply.

For a moment Astarion let his facade drop. Usually Tav would be eager to chat with him, truly, about anything and everything. To see them pay more attention to the fire than his gorgeous self— something really was wrong.

“What’s wrong, Tav? Tadpole hosting a private party in your skull?”

Tav snorted, another smile gracing Astarion and giving his heart a little flutter knowing that he managed to earn a real smile from them. “Everything?” Tav answered. “Just… everything.”

“Well-“

“And you don’t have to tell me that we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Look at you! Eavesdropping on a private conversation? I’m so proud.”

They didn’t reply this time, just focusing on the flames as they danced in front of them, burning down the pile of wood and sparking as Tav added another log.

“No, things won’t end happily ever after,” Astarion broke the silence as he spoke, his voice soft. “I think that much was obvious the moment we were abducted by fucking mind flayers.”

“Some pep talk—“

“Give me a moment, I’m not accustomed to cheering a person up!”

Tav laughed, but gestured for Astation to continue. “Okay, sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” Astarion bumped their arm into Tav’s. “Now, where was I—“

“Happily ever after, or lack thereof.”

“Right, our eventual demise.”

“Astarion—“

“Look, I’m not good at this, clearly. We’re all bound to die some day, but it’s how we spend our days before the end that matters. You can’t give into these feelings of darkness that haunt you, the urge to give up when things get tough. I’m here for you, everyone in this strange camp of weirdos is here for you— and if you’re hurting all you have to do is say something and we’ll do what we can. Shitty pep talks included.”

Tav nodded and tossed their stick into the fire, no longer playing with the flames that beckoned them. “I’m hurting.”

“I know, darling,” Astarion said and put his arm over their shoulder, pulling them closer. “I can’t change the world, all I can do is be here for you… and I hope it’s enough.”

[moonselune]

I am SOOO loving your work right now it's all so so good :))) can I request the ladies comforting Tav after they went too far when "interrogating" someone for information? Like Tav came back to camp and the ladies just knew something was off so they go to comfort tav and the only thing Tav can say is "I made them talk" but theyre very clearly distraught about it? No worries if not it is a bit of a darker subject (is this idea also ripped straight from The Last of Us Part 2? Yes lol)

Ahhh thank you so much, I love this and omg The Last of Us <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The campfire crackled softly, casting a warm, flickering glow over the gathering of your party. The day’s events had been intense, culminating in a harsh interrogation of an enemy captive. Although the information gained was valuable, the process had left you feeling unsettled and emotionally drained.

You sat on the edge of the camp, away from the others, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort of what you had done. Your thoughts were a tangled mess of guilt and regret. The fire’s warmth did little to soothe the cold knot of remorse that had settled in your chest.

Karlach, ever perceptive, noticed your distant demeanor. She approached quietly, her footsteps muffled by the grass, and sat down beside you. Her usual fiery energy was tempered by a concerned softness as she studied you.

“Hey babe,” she began gently, her voice low and comforting. “I see something’s bothering you. You’ve been distant ever since we got back. What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, trying to dismiss her concern. “It’s nothing, Karlach. Just… tired, I guess.”

Karlach’s eyes narrowed with concern, not buying your attempt to brush it off. She reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and grounding. “Don’t shut me out. I can tell something’s eating at you. Talk to me.”

Your throat tightened, and despite your best efforts, tears began to well up in your eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure, but the emotional weight was too much. Karlach’s presence was a gentle balm against the storm of your feelings, but you still struggled to find the right words.

Karlach’s expression softened further, her eyes filled with empathy. She moved closer, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a comforting embrace. Her strength was a steady anchor, and you leaned into her, finding solace in her warmth.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice soothing and steady. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. You don’t have to be alone with this.”

The tears finally spilled over, and you found yourself unable to hold back the sobs that wracked your body. You clung to Karlach, her presence a refuge from the guilt that had consumed you.

Through your tears, you choked out the words, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I made them talk. I went too far. I don’t know if I should have done it that way.”

Karlach’s grip tightened around you, her embrace firm and reassuring. She stroked your back gently, offering comfort without judgment. “You did what you felt was necessary in the moment. Sometimes, the weight of what we do can be heavy, and it’s okay to feel this way. It doesn’t mean you’re wrong or bad.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands gently cupping your face as she looked into your eyes. “You have a heart that cares deeply. That’s why this bothers you. It means you’re not numb to the consequences of your actions. And that’s a good thing.”

You took a shuddering breath, her words a small comfort amidst the turmoil. “I just… I wish it didn’t feel like this. I wanted to get the information, but I didn’t want to hurt them like that.”

Karlach’s eyes were filled with understanding as she wiped away your tears with her thumbs. “It’s normal to feel conflicted. It’s not an easy task. But you’re not alone in this. I’m here for you, always..”

The comfort of her words and the strength of her embrace began to ease some of the burden you carried. You stayed in her arms, letting the warmth of her presence gradually soothe the ache in your heart. Her reassurance and empathy were a balm to the guilt you felt, and though it would take time to fully come to terms with your actions, Karlach’s support made the burden feel a little lighter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The night had settled over the camp, its darkness broken only by the flickering light of the campfire. The other members of your party were engaged in their own activities, but you found yourself on the fringes, feeling the weight of the day’s events more acutely than you had expected.

The interrogation you conducted had been intense, and while it had yielded crucial information, the process had left you feeling deeply unsettled. You had pushed the boundaries further than you intended, and the emotional aftermath was beginning to take its toll.

Minthara, ever observant and attuned to the subtleties of yourself, noticed your troubled demeanor. She approached you quietly, her presence both commanding and comforting as she sat down beside you.

“You seem troubled, my love.” Minthara said, her voice low and perceptive. “Tell me, what is weighing on your mind?”

You hesitated, trying to mask your inner turmoil with a forced nonchalance. “It’s nothing, Minthara. Just tired from the day. I’ll be fine.”

Minthara’s eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely convinced by your dismissal. She reached out, her hand resting firmly on your arm. “You are not fine. I can see that something is wrong. Do not shut me out. What happened?”

You tried to brush her off again, but the effort was half-hearted and she could tell, so she continued to press you on the matter. The weight of your emotions was becoming increasingly difficult to manage. Her probing only intensified the internal conflict you were struggling to suppress, and the pressure finally caused you to snap.

“I made them talk!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and guilt. “I went too far.”

Minthara’s expression shifted to one of confusion, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand your distress. “I don’t see why that is a problem. You did what was necessary to achieve the desired outcome. You achieved the results we needed.”

You shook your head, the frustration and guilt bubbling over. “It wasn’t necessary. I pushed them beyond what was needed. I— I don’t like how it made me feel. I feel… wrong about it.”

The admission came out in a rush, the weight of your actions pressing heavily on your conscience. Minthara’s confusion slowly gave way to understanding as she saw the depth of your discomfort.

“You’re troubled because you crossed a line,” she said softly, her tone gentle but firm. “You’re not accustomed to pushing yourself to such extremes, and it’s affecting you deeply.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt them like that. I wanted the information, but not at the cost of my own sense of right and wrong. It’s eating at me.”

Minthara’s expression softened further, and she reached out to take your hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “It’s important that you recognize the impact of your actions. It’s not easy to face the consequences of pushing beyond your own limits.”

She guided you to sit closer, her presence a steady anchor in the midst of your emotional storm. “You are not alone in this. I understand the complexities of these situations. It is normal to feel conflicted. What matters is how you handle these feelings moving forward.”

Her words were a balm to your frayed emotions, and you allowed yourself to lean into her support, taking comfort in her presence.

As you sat together by the fire, Minthara wrapped her arms around you, her touch a grounding force. She offered soft reassurances and occasional words of comfort, helping you navigate the emotional fallout of your actions. Although she could not fully understand your guilt, she understood that you were upset, and she would be there to help you, to make you feel better, be the strength that she knew you were.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The interrogation of an enemy had been harsh and intense, and though it had yielded valuable information, you couldn’t shake the lingering discomfort from pushing the boundaries.

As you sat by the edge of the camp, trying to gather your thoughts, Lae’zel, ever observant and perceptive, noticed your distracted and troubled demeanor. Her sharp eyes missed nothing, and she approached you with her usual directness but a hint of concern in her otherwise impassive expression. She settled down next to you, her presence both commanding and comforting.

“You seem troubled,” she said, her tone direct but not unkind. “What is wrong?”

You hesitated, struggling to articulate the swirl of emotions inside you. The guilt and discomfort were hard to voice, but the words finally escaped your lips, tinged with frustration. “I made them talk.”

Lae’zel’s brows furrowed slightly, her expression thoughtful as she considered your words. She sat down beside you, her strong, calloused hand resting gently on your shoulder, providing a sense of grounded support. Her touch was firm but not harsh.

“A warrior must sometimes push beyond the boundaries to achieve their goals,” Lae’zel began, her voice calm and measured. “It is understandable that this would weigh on you. However, it is also important to recognize when you have exceeded your own limits.”

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and residual guilt. “I didn’t want to hurt them like that. I wanted the information, but I went too far. It’s hard to reconcile that with my own sense of right and wrong.”

Lae’zel’s gaze softened, and she leaned closer, her presence a steady anchor amidst your turbulent emotions. “It is good to know when you have crossed a line. Your distress is an indication of your integrity and self-awareness. It shows that you are not numb to the consequences of your actions.”

She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, her touch both firm and comforting. “A true warrior understands the cost of their actions and is capable of reflection. The fact that you feel troubled by this means you are capable of growth and self-discipline.”

You took a deep breath, her words providing a measure of comfort. Lae’zel’s straightforward approach was strangely soothing, and her acceptance of your distress helped ease some of the guilt that had been weighing on you. Her support, though unadorned with excessive empathy, was grounded in a deep understanding of the warrior’s path.

“It’s a difficult balance to strike,” she continued, her voice steady. “Recognizing when you’ve gone too far is as important as knowing when to strike decisively. Both are marks of a skilled and thoughtful warrior.”

You nodded, feeling a semblance of relief as Lae’zel’s words resonated with you. The night’s quiet and her comforting presence created a space where you could begin to process the day’s events without the burden of isolation.

In the stillness of the night, Lae’zel’s support helped to temper the harsh edges of your internal struggle, allowing you to find some measure of peace and understanding amidst the emotional aftermath of your interrogation.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The night had fallen over the camp, a blanket of darkness occasionally broken by the flickering light of the fire. The conversations around the campfire were subdued, the weight of the day’s events lingering in the air. You sat apart from the others, lost in your thoughts, struggling with the aftermath of the interrogation you had conducted earlier. Though the information you had extracted was valuable, you felt a deep sense of unease over the methods you had employed.

Shadowheart noticed your troubled form. As she moved quietly through the camp, her gaze settled on you, sensing that something was wrong. With a grace that matched her usual composed demeanor, she approached and sat down beside you.

Her presence was calming, a stark contrast to the turmoil roiling inside you. Shadowheart studied you with concern as she took in your distant expression.

“You seem troubled, love,” she said softly, her voice gentle and soothing. “Is something bothering you?”

You hesitated, struggling to articulate the pain inside. Finally, the words came out, tinged with guilt and frustration. “I made them talk.”

Shadowheart’s eyes softened with understanding as she listened. She did not press you for more details, sensing that you were already overwhelmed. Instead, she responded with quiet empathy, reaching out to you. Though she could not remember it exactly, she remembered feeling this way when she was younger, in the Sharran cloister. There she had no one to soothe her, and it was painful, she would not allow you to go through the same thing. So, without a word, she moved closer and gently wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.

The contact was tender and reassuring, her warmth enveloping you like a protective cocoon. You leaned into her embrace, finding solace in the simple act of being held. Her touch was gentle yet firm, a grounding presence amidst the swirling emotions that had taken hold of you.

“It’s alright,” Shadowheart murmured into your ear, her voice soft and calming. “Sometimes, the weight of what we do can be heavy. It’s natural to feel conflicted.”

You clung to her, the comfort of her presence helping to ease some of the emotional strain. The embrace was a sweet refuge, a place where the harshness of the day could be softened by her quiet support.

“You don’t have to explain further,” she continued softly. “I can see that this weighs on you. It’s important to acknowledge how you feel. I’m here for you.”

Her words, combined with her gentle touch, helped to soothe the sharp edges of your guilt. The night’s quiet and the warmth of her embrace allowed you to breathe more easily, if only for a moment. Shadowheart’s comfort was a reminder that, despite the difficulties of your actions, you were not alone in facing them.

As you rested in her arms, the firelight flickered softly in the background, casting a warm glow on the both of you. In the cocoon of her embrace, you began to find a semblance of peace, her comforting presence a testament to the depth of her understanding and love for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The camp was quiet under the darkening sky, the warmth of the fire flickering softly against the encroaching night. The aftermath of the day’s events hung heavy in the air. The interrogation you had conducted earlier had been intense, and while the information extracted was crucial, you felt a gnawing discomfort about the methods you had employed. You had pushed the boundaries further than you intended, and the weight of that decision was starting to press on you.

You had retreated to the edge of the camp, sitting apart from the others. The conversations and laughter of your companions seemed distant, their voices muffled by the turmoil inside you. Jaheira noticed your withdrawal and the pained expression on your face, immediately. With a graceful and measured approach, she made her way to where you sat.

Her presence was a soothing balm, a contrast to the internal storm you were experiencing. As she sat down beside you, her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and understanding.

“You look troubled, dearest” she said softly, her voice carrying the depth of her care. “What’s wrong?”

You tried to dismiss her concern, not quite ready to delve into the emotions roiling within you. “It’s nothing,” you said, your voice lacking conviction. “Just… tired.”

Jaheira’s eyes narrowed slightly, her intuition telling her that there was more beneath the surface. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, her touch warm and grounding.

“You can try, but you can’t hide from me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “I can see that something is troubling you. Please, talk to me.”

The weight of your emotions was too much to bear, and the truth slipped out with a mix of guilt and frustration. “I made them talk.”

Jaheira’s expression softened, and she moved closer, her presence offering a much-needed sense of comfort. She took your hand in hers, her grip firm but tender, and offered a reassuring squeeze.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “It’s difficult when you feel you’ve pushed beyond your own limits.”

Her touch was soothing, and her words were a balm to your troubled mind. You looked at her, tears beginning to well up, feeling the weight of your actions more acutely in her compassionate presence. Jaheira’s gaze held a deep understanding as she continued, her voice filled with empathy.

“Hey, it is a good thing that you are upset,” she said softly. “It shows that you have a heart, that you are not numb to the consequences of your actions. It means you care deeply about the impact of what you’ve done.”

You nodded, her words resonating with the inner conflict you were experiencing. Jaheira’s understanding and acceptance of your distress helped to ease some of the guilt that had been weighing on you. Her embrace, gentle and reassuring, offered a moment of solace amidst the turmoil. She guided you into a comforting hug, her arms encircling you with a warmth that was both steady and tender.

“You are not alone in this,” she murmured, her voice a calming whisper as she pressed a kiss to your temple. “We all face moments where our actions weigh heavily on us. It’s a part of life. What matters is how we learn and grow from these experiences.”

You leaned into her, finding comfort in the strength of her embrace. Jaheira’s support was a reminder that, even in moments of guilt and self-doubt, there was someone who understood and cared deeply for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I love our ladies being soft for reader it is just so wholesome, hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[moonyinpisces]

I am curious what you, a preeminent Aziraphale Understander, thinks about all the Final Fifteen theories i.e. the slew of theories that basically boil down to the F15 are not to be taken at face value, Aziraphale is either lying under threat or being manipulated by the Metatron via coffee or whatever, etc.

thank you for asking! it is a blessing and a curse to understand aziraphale but i will do my very best to put vibes into words. like everything he did in the final fifteen tracks to me, but i'll try to explain why in case people are still struggling with it. obligatory this is my opinion blah blah blah but if you disagree then make your own post so it's easier for me to ignore

anyway. here's the thing. i think textually it's pretty clear that aziraphale didn't have a choice. i think the show made that obvious with the "give me coffee OR give me death", the title sequence includes a coffee cup marching along with the other figures, this being a shared moment of materiality/consuming human food which was established as significant in "othering" angels/demons from their respective sides in the job minisode. the end result is meant to be a kinship to rationalize aziraphale agreeing with the metatron, as everything about the metatron in e6 was designed to 1. attract aziraphale 2. repel crowley

the repulsion worked on crowley, even just secondhand. he sees the manipulation and understands that aziraphale being used as distraction for the second coming is far more significant than what aziraphale believes he is capable of towards making any meaningful change in heaven. but i don't think the metatron's attraction worked on aziraphale. i don't think the end result we saw was aziraphale agreeing because the metatron was likable, and i think he's fully aware of the manipulation (even if he doesn't know about the second coming yet). just as, with the coffee cup, he is fully aware that he has no other choice. of course, this isn't a removal of autonomy to aziraphale; most of his character choices throughout the series are him working inside the idea that he he NEVER has a choice anyway (re: god's plan, ineffable or otherwise). and in this case, he knows just as well as crowley does that he was offered this position in heaven to be split up from crowley/earth for whatever reason; he just absolutely thinks that what he'll be able to achieve in heaven overrides however the metatron thinks he'll be able to be restrained/distracted. and in a much larger sense, he sees this as something he's meant to do via god

and aziraphale wants crowley to come with him. that's not fake or naive, and he doesn't think crowley will refuse bc their communication skills are quite literally the central conflict of the show. aziraphale is like, look how powerful we are together. look how much heaven wants to split us up. if you come with me to heaven, we are in a much better position of making meaningful change so we can have a peaceful existence together in the future, ON earth. which is what you clearly want. and i don't think this is a naive viewpoint to have like other people have said; i think this is confident. i think aziraphale is saying we can change the FOUNDATIONS of heaven, while crowley is saying the foundations CANNOT be changed. they are operating off two different modes of thought. and aziraphale uses crowley's perceived 'rejection' as fuel when he steps on that elevator, not out of anger towards crowley (at least not genuinely) but as desperate fodder to the fire that's been stoking 6000-so years of anger. in that moment (regarding the smile in the elevator), following the look to the bentley after he learns about the second coming and understands what crowley knew and was purposefully not saying, i just think that to aziraphale, crowley becomes another person to prove wrong

so ultimately did aziraphale have a choice? no. does he know this? yes. does he still make the decision to accept the supreme archangel position as if he had a choice? also yes. why? because he's insane (i say this with love). and also he has aligned himself with god more than he's ever aligned himself with heaven, and he's going to show everyone what he's capable of

[rebo-chan]

Hello, everyone. To today's episode of Tumblr user Rebo-chan loses her mind and assigns each and every Vongola guardian a flower that I have painstakingly searched high and low for (I wish I was being dramatic, I got too invested in this as I worked on it). Is this done in a state of mania? Perhaps, but I am diseased by COVID-19 as we speak and this is what I will do with the time I am meant to be resting with. Nonetheless we must get started. Content under the cut, because I can NEVER make a short post. It's against my core beliefs clearly.

Sawada Tsunayoshi:

The European Orange Lily (Lilium bulbiferum)

My reasoning for this starts with the fact that the "lily" itself has a lot of different meanings, but the important aspect of the lily is that its considered the spring flower and represents often meanings of renewal and rebirth. The very messaging for our sweet boy, a life restarted after he meets his mentor. An orange lily specifically has meanings dipped into warmth, joy, passion (In regards to his devotion to those he loves), 'welcoming' to new opportunities in your life (lol), and most importantly - confidence and pride. Something that he grows to be over the course of his renewal, pride in his friends. Confidence in his strength to protect them. KHR is a story about a nobody becoming somebody strong enough to protect them, even and especially when they falter themselves. It should also be noted that in Hanakotoba (Japanese flower language), orange lilies represent 'revenge and hatred'. Which I think is a factor of Tsuna we can't ignore, as sweet as he is, TYL Tsuna's actions become darker the more you think about them. Tsuna can and has killed when a villain has overstepped too far, and never forget that he just wanted to know "who" Yamamoto's attacker was. For no reason, just to look at him, maybe shake his hand lol. Fr though, that boy's made of fire, both to keep his loved ones warm and to burn their enemies. I think the orange lily fits him nicely.

Also yes, I'll do my best to color-code these flowers~

Gokudera Hayato:

A Red Fressia

So, its quite hard actually to find any sort of 'red' flowers that aren't about some sort of romantic-esque devotion. Just being a red flower inherently puts you in that category of 'passion, love, marriage' meanings when it comes to flowers. It's a real struggle, but luckily he's our only red character amongst the Vongola kids. Okay, so the Freesia is represented by the concept of friendship and ultimate trust. I think it was easier for me to find a flower that represents devotion or duty and tack it on to Gokudera, but I think that's just looking at him on the surface. The story behind the freesia is that the botanist who found them in South Africa decided to name it after his friend as a symbol of their friendship. Very lovely :)<3 For all of Gokudera's dutiful affection for Tsuna, a lot of it is based on the fact that Tsuna was his first friend and the person who he trusted first. His eventual character growth and bonding with the other guardians came as he allowed himself to trust them, when he realized that his 'duty' that he believed to be absolute was above his bonds. Rather, it's his bonds that strengthen his resolve to be the perfect right hand man. Due to the intense representation of friendship and trust, freesias are given to a loved one to represent commitment to them, not unlike Gokudera's commitment to Tsuna and therefore the Vongola family unit. It should also be noted that in Hanakotoba, freesias also have a negative meaning which is childishness and immaturity which I do feel is something that Gokudera has to work through in order to become the best version of himself and has done quite well at by the end of the series. He's our little friendship blossom :)<3 Yamamoto Takeshi: Himalayan Blue Poppy

Let me start this by complaining that 'blue' flowers are so fucking rare, it took me forever to find something matched and was also color-coded with Yamamoto, that didn't dip into too indigo, because of the rarity of a nicely blue flower. To start, blue as a color has all those lovely Yamamoto vibes of being calming, easy on the mind, tranquility, all that beautiful stuff we know Yamamoto to be. (It's almost like Amano color-coded her characters guys..) Poppies themselves got a bit of cultural significance in the West, being the flowers given to WW1 soldiers after they'd passed as a way of remembrance. They're also known for growing in desolate war-torn areas, just a patch of poppies as well as having many soldiers buried with a poppy with them in honor. With that the poppy itself has themes of death, honor, lessons, tradition and remembrance. With Yamamoto’s connection to the Poppy flower, Yamamoto himself is..pretty death-coded. HEAR ME OUT. HEAR !! ME OUT!!!! Varia arc, Squalo ‘dies’ against Yamamoto. Future arc, Tsuyoshi is killed for Yamamoto being involved with the Vongola, Shimon with Yamamoto himself getting nearly killed and then that big moment where he offers to kill Daemon in retaliation for what was done to Kaoru. While not canon as well, the primo fillers are about Yamamoto dealing with the fact he DIDNT kill daisy and how he felt he had to be less easy-natured and actually go for the kills from now on. And of course, his attempt during daily life when he could not do what he loved anymore. He’s VERY death-coded y’all. But the poppy itself isn’t just some omen of death, but the lessons one can gather from those who have passed. Yamamoto’s own battle style is about taking the lessons of those before him who carried Shigure Soen Ryu and then growing upon that to carve a new and improved future for himself and those he cares about. He adapts to their lessons, what Squalo and Tsuyoshi have to teach him. On the fly, continuing the Shigure legacy and creating more moves to eventually pass on to the one that succeeds him. In general, he carries any lessons he has up until the end of the series and tries to never make the same mistake again. Whether that’s his lessons against the Mists he’s battled, his loss against Squalo for not having a proper sword style, and though he doesn’t get a chance against Gamma again, he’s always understood the importance of teamwork. That being said, he’s not just a poppy. He’s a Himalayan Blue Poppy. You see the himalayan blue poppy has a different meaning outside that of the ones that the other poppies do. With its rarity, it also represents success, potential, pursuit of dreams, and possibility.  Yamamoto is the Vongola family’s prodigy, a natural born hitman, the star baseball player on his team. Stuck at a crossroads between his dream and being able to be in a position to protect the ones he loves. An impossibly difficult choice to make, yet Yamamoto handles it with ease. He just won’t choose! He’ll do both! Which fights very nicely with the Hanakatoba meaning of the poppy. “Fun-loving” “A reminder to remember happiness.” Along with general blue color meanings of tranquility, that is Yamamoto to his core, I believe. When things get their worst, he is there to remind everyone that it is never as bad as it feels. To wash away the blood spilled, that is the role of the Vongola Rain Guardian. His crossroad isn’t an issue to him, because that’s not what he fights for! He fights to make things easier for everyone, so they may remember happiness. That sort of thing doesn’t exactly need him to make a choice on his path. Now, does it? If he’s forced to choose, he will just carve out new possibilities for himself and the ones that he loves with the lessons he’s learnt. 

Lambo Bovino: Green Envy Zinnia

Contrary to the title, the green envy zinnia has nothing to do with envy. Quite the opposite, actually. The zinnia itself represents endurance (HEAR. ME. OUT LOL), lasting affection, joy, and various other things. So, the zinnia is super fucking tough, again hear me OUTTTT. They bloom all the way from springtime to autumn, something pretty unheard of from flowers which gave them their meaning. A green envy Zinnia specifically represents growth or a journey. Wishes of a healthy and successful growth. And I believe that is the hope for Lambo, as he progresses through the series. He is quite literally a child, both himself and TYL. But that’s just the thing for him, to the one that chose the guardians (Iemitsu, it’s very implied that it was Iemitsu), Lambo is an INVESTMENT. And a correct one if twenty years old Lambo was anything to go by. Not only that, the zinnia represents a joyous endurance. This doesn’t have to be painful for him, and it’s not as he’s allowed to both be a kid in Tsuna’s care while also holding on tight when told to stay out of the fight. (“You have to take the younger me wherever you go, he wants to go with you.”). And as a bit of an angsty little hehe on my part, the zinnia also represents missing those who have passed, that you remember someone and love them even now that they’re not with you. (“Seeing you all again, I thought the day would never happen. It’s making me emotional.”) Honestly, judging by how Lambo fights when he gets the opportunity to properly do it, he just isn’t weak. Destroying Kikyo’s box animal, fighting against Ooyama, and of course against Levi too. In Hanakotoba, the Zinnia represents loyalty. He is their youngest blossom, enjoying being around the one he considers a brother with hidden potentials to grow into someone with the ability to be Vongola’s shield. If the ones he loves ever make it to see that sight, of course. 

Ryohei Sasagawa: Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) 

Okay, so the yarrow is first of all a funky flower. If you’ve never seen OTHER colors of the yarrow flower, I implore you to google it. Especially the red ones? Why are you so pretty? Lucky enough for this flower (and me I’m starting to lose my mind here, this was a much bigger task than I thought it would be) the different colors don’t change the meaning of the flower here which is neat. It also unfortunately has no hanakotoba meaning either. So, anyway. The yarrow. It represents a warrior’s bravery, protection, and healing. The healing comes from the fact that its a commonly used herb for bruises, cuts, and sprains. There’s also huge folklore around it which affects its scientific name, as Achilles used yarrow to take care of the men he was in charge of. This flower was also used as a ward against evil, where people would hang this outside of their homes in order to protect them from evil getting inside. A superstition developed around this leading to Yarrow to be named the devil’s nettle to refer to the belief that the devil would come around and shake the yarrow that people hung up due to wanting to curse them. This flower also represents strong everlasting love, to the point where a little tradition propped up where people would shove this flower up their nostrils whenever they had a nosebleed so if they dreamt about their crush it meant that they liked them back lol. Yall there was so much rich lore on this flower, it’s super neat. More than I could fit in here. Anyway, I’m sure yall see the connection with Ryohei acting as the group older brother, being the motivating factor for them. He was the first to go up during Varia arc and set the tone for the rest of the battles, that the Vongola would win. Last to show up during future, representing that all of them had finally been reunited. A draw against Aoba, again the very first battle, almost symbolizing HOW shimon would end. He’s the strength in their arms, acting as the last person to leave in future arc until they were ready to go. Taught them and helped lead them to make decisions during that arc. It’s almost his duty to protect the younger ones, even getting up on Hibari’s case in the fillers for not helping out his younger classmen. We can’t even dismiss the way he would prefer to shield Kyoko from everything that they go through, and getting aggressive with Tsuna when Tsuna broke something he thought both of them saw eye to eye on.  Not much rattles him, honestly if you pay attention to his scenes, only getting the most nervous and agitated TRULY when he fears he won’t be able to protect someone (Asking Tsuna how Kyoko reacted to the news, Tozaru getting on his case about Lambo coming to the battle) Otherwise, he’s his happy loud confident self ready to tackle on anything for the sake of the family. Destroying the misfortune that attacks the family with their own body, the yarrow represents that duty well. For every bruise the younger one gets, Ryohei has the ability to heal it. For every fear, Ryohei tackles it first. Acting as a ward and protector for his family. Hibari Kyoya

Clematis (Etoile Violette)

Clematis is a climbing flower, to start with. One of those flowers that grow along walls and vines. It’s a very adaptable flower, able to work with various environments and thrive amongst them. They’re known as the traveler’s joy, meant to wish travelers good luck and act as protection to those who pass by them. While also having a more negative reputation, having “killed” other plants by outcompeting them considered having done the devil’s work. (The plant is actually considered invasive aha oops) The clematis though, itself represents mental fortitude, cleverness, and the ability to find hope in perilous situations. Hibari himself, I mean just that back and forth reputation is just him, no? Acting as Namimori’s protector, keeping a watchful eye on the town while also being utterly terrifying for Namimori students and almost overwhelming to those competing with him. (Dino will only find escape from Hibari in death, Mukuro is the same) But, he is also undoubtedly Vongola’s wall. Similar to Ryohei, not once throughout the series really and truly faltering. The clematis itself with its representation in mental fortitude can be given to someone when they need mental strength. I think the best way to represent this is directing you to that moment in Shimon arc when Tsuna, while not physical beaten, had been mentally tormented by everything that had happened and Hibari came to his battle to Adel. A simple, but strong “Little animal, your face right now is dull. Watch my fight.” It’s in that fight Tsuna gets his mental strength back, being given a hint to answer the question he’s been stressing and faltering over. Then there’s future arc, having been the only one TYL Tsuna trusted with the plan. Kokuyo Arc, Gokudera seeing an already defeated Hibari and taking him to the battle. Varia arc, the gang realizing that if Hibari is fighting next then they may have already won it and refusing to succumb to the poison in the sky battle. Rainbow arc, Tsuna considering them in that list of people he “just expects to help him.” He has the ability to be their hope, to be another factor of their strength. Where Ryohei is holding them up on the physical aspect, Hibari is absolutely their mental strength. (Isn’t it charming that the two eldest are the pillars of their group? I think it is). Also, in Hanakotoba, the clematis represents moral beauty and order. And that’s just the kinda man who could run something like the discipline committee, isn’t? The special thing, finally is that the etoile violette represents a sense of freedom from troubles. A free man, unchained himself and choosing to help those younger than him. Sometimes for the thrill of a battle, sometimes to actually help them with the reputation of a devil. Unpredictable, but still trusted.  It’s the sky that allows the clouds to roam freely, but even someday that sky will be beaten to death. 

Chrome Dokuro

Lupine (Blue Bonnet)

The Lupine flower is before anything else, a second chance at life. A recovery from one’s trauma and the admiration that comes from that. Its gratitude and kindness put into one. There’s a legend around the lupine flower about a land full of drought where Native Americans had believed would be saved by selflessness and yet no one had come forward to do anything, until a young girl came forward and offered the last of her possessions. The rain came to fall at her sacrifice, and hundreds of lupines had blossomed from the ground saving the tribe from drought and hunger as the seeds of the Lupine could be harvested to be eaten. The Lupine represents that the world will always give back if you are willing to help. Chrome, from her introduction, is told to be a girl who has nothing. With two parents who want nothing to do with her and no friends by her side. She runs forward to save a kitten and is gravely injured. With neither of her parents willing to help her, Chrome wonders if she is going to die here but is offered a deal by Mukuro. It’s here that Chrome is offered her second chance and she spends the whole series trying to return the favor to Mukuro. All while healing from her own trauma, the type of trauma that “no one could care about her”, as she is offered food and bonds from Tsuna, Kyoko, Haru, I-pin, Bianchi, Hibari, and so many others. It's in her second chance that she gets to experience what life truly had to offer her, as thank you for her continued selflessness. It’s that gratitude that she represents and the never-ending desire to give when she doesn’t accept Mukuro’s assistance anymore with her organs because she can no longer give him anything now that he’s out of Vindice Prison. She resolves that she will become someone who can protect the people she and Mukuro like. Her confidence isn’t perfect and she falters quite a bit, not believing that her powers are as great as those around her. But, that’s okay, because her goodness has brought her to people who have got her back until she can figure herself out. She has Mammon to correct her when her illusions are seen through that they are well made, but she’s just dealing with professionals and that’s why they’re seen through. There’s Tsuna who relies on her blindly, never doubting her strength to protect them as he asks her to act as defense during Shimon arc and protect Enma from his attack. Alongside with Fran, she is trusted to protect Yamamoto and Gokudera in the final battle against Vindice and taken with Tsuna against Jaegar. She has a lot of space to continue growing, but Lupin also represents voracity and happiness in Hanakotoba. She has her second chance to learn all about that, or as Mukuro put it to her, “An ending is merely the beginning of another cycle.”

Rokudo Mukuro

Aconitum (Wolfsbane)

Wolfsbane is also referred to as Monkshood. This is another one with pretty rich lore with its connection to werewolves. It’s referred to as “queens of the poisons” and has a pretty negative message to it on the outside. First of all, this thing’s poison? TOUGH AS HELL. Delirium, frothing at the mouth, vision impairment, and of course the classic coma<3 It’s got an uncanny resemblance to what rabies actually looks like. Fun, right? Okay, fr though onto its meaning. Wolfsbane is an omen that danger is nearby, not unlike the unnerving feeling Tsuna gets whenever he senses Mukuro nearby. Said to have come from Hell itself, the saliva that has dripped down from Cerberus himself. Not unlike our sweet boy. But, being an omen does not always represent something bad. Is he bringing the danger to you, or is he warning you of the true danger that lies past him? It’s a little bit of both. Aconitum represents concealed wisdom and caution in decision-making. But it also DOES represent protection, a proper and true warning of the dangers of the wild. That beauty does not always mean safe. For his twisted sense of vengeance and believing that taking over the world is the only way to destroy it for the sake of what was done to him, he isn’t necessarily wrong for being enraged about what happened to him. Yet, despite his hate, he doesn’t drag those who he cares about further down into it than he has to. He sends Ken and Chikusa away when they are going to get caught, he never uses Chrome for anything besides as a vessel to help her, and he says during Rainbow arc that if he forced Fran to continue past his limits he’d be no better than those nasty adults of his past. Aconitum balances sweetly between light and darkness, similar to Mukuro. He won’t admit it, but he cares for those amongst the Vongola. He infiltrates the Millefiore and sends the Vongola information after Tsuna’s death, he helps Chrome form a barrier around Enma so he could be safe from Tsuna’s X-Burner. And, of course he teams up with Vongola’s team during the rainbow arc. These are undoubtedly kind actions,  but when Tsuna gets angry at Mukuro during Rainbow claiming that he didn’t believe that Mukuro was the type to abandon his allies, Mukuro says that that was just his idea of him. Even though it was Chrome ultimately rejecting him, he instead pretended that he really was some big bad heartless person. Definitely, Mukuro is no angel, but also he’s no demon either. He’s.. just a human at the end. The aconitum’s dance with both light and dark, a flower that tries to warn, can be read both good and bad depending on how you look at it. His rejection of his ‘official’ position as part of the Mafia, yet acting as the Vongola Mist Guardian when their goals align. He’s as confusing as the duty he embodies, but he succeeds nonetheless in ensuring the family is untouchable in his deceptions. After all, the best way to fool your enemies is to fool your allies first.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello lovely fandom and happy Wednesday. Wanted to get this review out sooner than the last. Since I was delayed and late last week. With good reason I know but Wed was my original goal. So wanna stick to it for this next one.

Ahhh the 100th ep. Had we had full seasons in 1-3 would’ve been last year. But that is neither here nor there HA. Also it's our ILY ep ❤️ This is a PACKED ep for them. So did my best per usual for gif space. They had wall to wall moments which is amazing but daunting for reviews ha The gif puzzle was a hard one but I got it worked out. Do love a challenge. Anyways let us begin.

6x02 The Hammer

Our couple starts up still icy and tense af. I relate to Tim so much in this first scene. Shocker I know. I’m very much the kind to be like. 'It sucked, I noted it sucked, I was upset and now we’re moving on.' I hate beating a dead horse if I feel the subject has been talked to death. Now that isn't this situation but it is the jist of the scene for Tim at least. Lucy asking if they can talk Tim says yes BUT there’s nothing to talk about. Now, where I am like Tim in wanting the expedience of a situation to be over, I'm not in how he handled the end of the scene above. Just avoiding it completely. I have grown quite a bit due to therapy thankfully.

So this is where he and I differ in this tiff. What he's doing used to be my M.O. Where as now I still want it over quickly but I now I follow it up with how I recognize how I can be better. If I’m in the wrong that is. I ask what I can do moving forward so doesn’t happen again? Asking what I could do next time to make sure they don't feel that way in the future? Or if I’m the wronged party explaining what I need so this doesn’t happen next time. As we know our boy is pre-therapy Tim atm so he does none of those things….Communication as we know not their strong suit.

Lucy wants to talk it out more in detail. Seeing their fight as another bigger fight to come. She isn’t wrong at all. First time I've agreed with her in this prolonged fight. It totally is a pending issue. Lucy tells him just wanting to move on isn’t healthy. Definitely isn't. And he is riled up from the insinuation. Tim just wants to shove it into a box until that issue comes to light again. Which again isn’t the healthiest approach to what she is aiming at. The reality is right or not Lucy hurt him deeply. He clearly isn’t over that and it’s reflected in their convo above. The start to the ep is a fraught one for them.

Lucy meets up with Angela to go over 'The Hammer.' Which she is more than happy to help her out with. What she doesn’t know is she’s about to step in the middle of a lover's quarrel. Which is going to make her even happier tbh. LOL This is one of those 'Angela is the fandom moments.' Where she’s just sitting back and enjoying the show. Her face while she watches the chaos unfold is everything. Look at her above. She is gleeful she lucked into this fight.

Their bickering has reached astronomical married levels. It’s written all over Angela’s face as she watches them argue. With their pot shots, passive aggressive comments, and the fact they’re fighting like she’s not even there anymore. Lastly just the all around husband and wife banter they're displaying for her. The 100th ep delivered in so many ways. This scene is one of them. Our on screen shipper is having the time of her life with this. Not hiding her delight in the least.

She signed on for help then got popcorn and a show to go with it. They don’t even notice her presence till she interjects ‘Let what go?’. They’re so wrapped up in their fight they had forgotten she was there. Angela wouldn’t be Angela without shooting off a snarky reply as they take off. 'Maybe I'll go too. Grab some popcorn on the way for the show.' So bummed couldn't get this one in gif wise. But I’m dying of laughter when Tim says she isn’t funny. Her firing back to 'She’s hysterical. Ask Wesley' LMAO

They arrive at the Hammer's apt and Tim is trying to give Lucy the rundown. Attempting and failing to be clipped and professional with her. But this is Lucy so that was never gonna happen. lol He mentions his real name is Billy Bob Bennett. Lucy touches his arm like she does so naturally and laughs. Asking if that’s really his name? That no wonder he goes by his nickname. Trying to lighten the vibe. Sadly her touch does nothing to soften his annoyance. Tim is still in grumpy mode and didn’t find this funny in the least.

Asking if he can just finish his good news/bad news? Lucy apologizes and say knock yourself out…Not wanting to fight any further on the subject. Tim continues on saying he has a felony warrant. So they could kick down his door if they wanted right now. Which is the good news. Lucy mentions he bought the ring legally though… Which is the bad news. So he has no reason to give them the ring. That he won’t be any more inclined to give it to them when they arrest him.

It’s here we watch Tim hesitate and it’s hilarious. Lucy is watching him with amused eyes wondering why. Has the look of a man who's seen things. haha Tim explains he loves to fight but more importantly he loves to fight cops more than anything. Hence the nickname. It’s the gentle way he pushes her toward his front door after his 'Ladies first.' line LOL I was laughing so hard. She’s smiling even mad she loves this goober of a man. Who says chivalry is dead eh?

When the Hammer opens the door he looks agro af. I love them being in-sync with putting their hands up. Even in a fight they are simpatico in the field. Lucy explains the situation with the ring while hubby nods along. This scene is gold. Hammer mentions the ring was legally bought. This is where she offers him the deal. That if he just gives them the ring they’ll give him a head start. Give him 20 minutes to grab the future misses and go to ground. They won’t start the hunt and call back up till then.

Of course living up to his reputation that’s not enough to get him to bite. He rather fight it out. Want's a fair fight. One on one. They win they get the ring and he gets arrested. Hammer wins he keeps the ring and they arrest him. I remember getting a flash back of the Pilot in this moment. Tim telling her she’s gonna have to fight him lmao Just like last ep the massive different between now and then is he’s in love with Lucy.

She tells him one will care what he looks like tomorrow LOL That she has to be beautiful and in a dress. I mean she isn’t wrong. But also I very much care about what he looks like at that wedding haha Lucy gives him all the heart eyes when he concedes and says ‘Let’s go.’ Even though she can handle herself no way he'd actually make her take this bullet mad or not. Do love her saying 'You got this.' before the fight begins. Ever the supportive wifey.

First off I cannot believe there isn’t a gif set of this fight. (Not that I could fit it in ha but still)There's one of Lucy’s reactions to the fight. But not of the fight itself. Which is a travesty because it’s sexy af on Tim’s part. The song running through the scene is perfection per usual. Second watching this fight makes me cringe at first. Not cause I don’t think it’s amazing. I love it. As stated earlier it's sexy af and impressive. What makes me cringe is having the back issues I have now and Tim having them as well. Hurts to watch for that reason. Hammer wipes floor with him at first. Idk how he isn’t tore up from the floor up after this lol

Lastly I do adore Lucy’s reactions to this. Worried wife mode has been activated. Mad as she is it pains her to not step in. She wants to at first and Tim stops her. Gesturing his hand to not intervene. Couldn’t fit that part in but I adored it. Hammer wanted a fair fight, and being the honorable man he is, Tim will uphold that. He knows Lucy can hold her only with the best of 'em. But Hammer would’ve been pissed had she jumped in to help him. Still I know it was killing her to watch him get tossed around like he did. Tim was NOT winning at first.

Now back to why this fight is sexy. It’s the way Tim holds his own. He gets tossed around like a rag-doll at first. Then learns how the Hammer moves and adapts. If you don’t think him launching himself off that bed and power kicking into his chest isn’t incredibly sexy, we can’t be friends. LOL It's insanely attractive how he took his ass down after that move. Holy hell. Look at those biceps in action. Bulging and sinfully delicious *fans self* I need some ice water. He could put me in a hold like that anytime....Lucy looks so relieved when he gets the ring and Hammer is passed out cold. Her reactions through out were primo though.

Next comes the best part of the scene. Tim staggers over and grabs the ring. Panting and completely out of breath. Damn near ready to pass out. Now this portion of him being on one knee as he hands her the ring. *screams into a pillow* This is foreshadowing at it's finest folks. Alexi wouldn’t have put this in there if he wasn’t gonna cash in on it one day. I truly believe that. The looks they share as well are so damn loaded. Look at the shared looks as he holds up the ring. Oh my lord.

Especially Lucy’s as she accepts the ring and looks down at him. Feeling all the feels we were in the moment. I remember A.H. saying there would be a moment that would launch a thousand gifs. He wasn’t wrong. This was an iconic moment in an episode full of them for our ship. Lucy is riddled with emotion and can barely choke out ‘Good job.’ You know she wants to marry this man. Stubborn streak and all. In that brief moment when he’s staring up at her that hits her. Stuns her a little too honestly. Melissa does a wonderful job conveying all that.

I remember seeing a great set for this. Had him kneeling on one knee from 5x17 when they're in sally port. Then 6x02. The caption read ‘Third time is the charm.’ In my heart of hearts I believe that. Next time he’s on one knee it’s going to be to ask Lucy Chen to marry him. To be his wife. What a beautiful day that’ll be. *dreamy sigh* That being said this moment was meant to be foreshadowing no doubt in my mind. The way the shot was framed and everything screamed that. It is funny to cap it off with Tim passing the hell out after it all haha Along with Lucy’s ‘Oh.’ as he collapses. It's hilarious. Poor Tim.

We move onto the unconventional bachelor/bachelorette parties. Because yes even though our ship is the best part of this ep, there is still a wedding to be had LOL I loved how this was written and shot. How it bounces back and forth between both parties. And how it’s about Chenford for most part not John/Bailey. Cause let’s be real. Ain’t no one watching this ep for their actual wedding. Also loved how this had that amazing rom-com vibe all over it. Made me very happy and I was here for it.

This portion shows us what we already know. They both got issues and aren’t confronting them. Celina’s comments crack me up. She’s new to shipping Chenford but is a shipper none the less. Basically being like you guys are what I’m striving for in my love life. So please work it out haha Tim noting they’re great when she’s not accusing him of made up transgressions. I mean he’s got you there Lucy....

Once again I’m on Tim’s side with this back and forth dialogue. Yes he was deeply traumatized by what happened with Isabel. But she is projecting onto him in this instance. Because she isn’t ready for all that comes with UC/detective. Chastity has a solid reply to Lucy about UC. A mic drop one really. We all know she is actually dreading what might happen now that she has him. Chastity trying to get Lucy to confront she's scared. Breaking News. She doesn't...She throws it back on Tim instead unfortunately.

Said this before just because you are good at something doesn’t mean it’s your destiny. Having to leave him for possible months at a time is shaking her. Also with how dangerous it is. That it increases the fact she could not come home to him. The detective exam makes UC a legit reality. One I don’t think Lucy really thought about because it was a distant future. Now that it’s closer she’s hitting the panic button HARD. Not only that but projecting onto Tim with this fight they’re still in. She’s in massive denial and it’s all over her in this scene.

Lucy breaks off from the party. She is meeting Tim at the station but she’s not sure why. I love how cute Tim is just waiting for her. So pleased with himself for this solution. Looking mighty yummy in his black shirt all wired up. Telling Lucy she can ask him whatever she wants. Just like the last ep he’s desperate to proof he’s on her side. That he’s truly rooting for her. Lucy gets excited asking if she can ask him anything? Tim is confused and says the point was to ask him about detective/UC….

I adore how Lucy instantly throws him off. How she crowds him and flusters him in the process. Saying they should be 'Thorough' as she scoots closer to him. Madam you aren't here to turn him on haha The way she approaches him says otherwise. Look at that man’s reaction. He’s so distracted he almost forgets why he’s wired up. Even after being together awhile she still takes his breath away. Look at the way he inhales sharply when she gets closer. Encroaching on his space.

Makes my shipper heart so damn happy. He’s a little turned on by her descent on him. How she pulls up nice and close. Not only that but scoots in and brackets his leg with her thighs. She knows what she's doing and is very aware that man loves her thighs. Tim is shook in the best way ahha I bet his heart rate spiked on that machine LMAO The way he looks her up and down. Floored by this woman in front of him. Hell of a way to start this scene.

Lucy wants a baseline so she starts with the bug question. Honestly it’s the best way to diffuse the tension before it gets real. Such a cute married moment this portion. Asking if he really releases the bugs she traps for him? Idk what’s cuter. Tim indulging her by taking them out to “Set them free.” Or Lucy asking him to do so while low key knowing he wasn’t LOL Marriage thy name is Chenford. His sigh before he admits he doesn't is so funny. That 'No' is hysterial.

His bemused face while she see's his answer is true is precious. The hilarious way he’s like yeah. I didn’t cause they’re bugs lol This is Grumpy X Sunshine personified for them with this part. I loved getting this look into them outside of work. When they’re just at her place being them. Clearly it's something that's been going on for a long time and I’m dying. Tim pretending to do so cause he loves her.

But he’s still him and isn’t gonna save a bugs life lmao Cause well. Tim. The fact he’s been killing them and lying to spare her feelings. That’s love ya’ll. Deep down she knew haha But needed to get the proof while he was wired up. Amazing. Damnit I love these two sfm. This episode is a treasure trove of goodies. Also just more proof how pure Lucy is. Wouldn’t hurt a fly literally. Pure sunshine this one.

Lucy gets a little more serious. Asks Tim if he loves her? Now it’s subtle and our ship is so good at the subtle goodness. I adore the slight shake of his head first. The way he looks at Lucy before he answers. Like how is this even a question? He feels every part of his being, every action he does, how he's opened up for her screams how much he loves her.

Like of course I love you, Lucy Chen. His heart eyes are off the charts adorable. I love the way he meets her half way. Needing to be closer to her when he says this. Does that deep breath first. Leans in with the biggest in love smile and tells her 'Yes. I love you.' *swoon* I could hear him say that all day.

You know his deep breath before he replies reminds me of 5x08 when he took a leap of faith. Took a deep breath and went for it. The sweet smile when he says he loves her. *squee* Nothing makes more sense to him than being in love with this woman in front of him. It’s written all over his confession and beautiful face. He couldn’t be more in love with her if he tried. Lucy’s knowing smirk is everything below.

I do remember there being a debate if this was first time he said that to her or not. I mean I’m not sure still tbh. Months later and I'm not 100% either way tbh. I mean how she looks at him when she asks him makes it seem like it is. Almost like she's holding her breath waiting for the answer. But then her reaction above is a knowing smile of someone who already knows. Like she's heard it from him before. And is using hearing it to ground herself in this moment.

Needing to hear that reassurance that he loves her. Because the next question is the biggie. But I could totally see this being the first time as well. It's one thing I'm not confident on which is very rare for me with them. Anyways no matter what camp you fall in this scene is fantastic. We got a love struck Tim Bradford telling Lucy he loves her. Nothing better than that you ask me. Not only that but with the biggest in-love grin we could ask for. So either way the scene is a massive win for us. I also can’t hear Tim say he loves her enough. Wanna hear it on a loop.

Makes me squee and simultaneously want to pass out from the glee. Unfortunately the lie detector detects its first lie in him being ok with her going UC. Even Tim is shocked by it. He truly thought he was going to pass that question with flying colors. Lucy isn’t shocked but Tim is. Why? Because the man as I’ve stated before would die rather than not support her. He is floored it's a lie. It does cause some good self reflection from him later at the wedding as we will see.

They sadly arrive to the wedding separately. Tim showing up looking like an absolute snack though. I love this vertical shot. Giving us a glorious look at him dressed to the nines. Tall drink of water I would like a sip of. Hot damn. Chicken or steak? Neither. I’ll take Tim Bradford wearing the hell out of that suit please and thank you. Also we know that man didn’t pick that suit out. Has Lucy written all over it with how they match. I can only imagine them going shopping for it and Tim protesting the entire time haha

Tim is actively seeking his person out as his eyes scan the crowd. Even mad he needs eyes on her. They lock eyes across the courtyard. Lucy looks excited to see him. She takes in how good he looks then remembers she’s mad at him. Doesn’t maintain it long after that sadly. Angsty goodness right there ooof. I’m here for it.

The wedding happens after but I don't really care about that TBH. The looks continue in the afterparty. Tim drinks at the bar and watch's his girl have fun on the dance floor. Lucy’s gaze a little softer this time around as she looks back at him. *sigh* Does crack me up Celina asks Aaron if they'll be ok as she watches them long for each other haha Girl is seriously worried about them. I love it.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE Tim being the one to bridge the gap. He's reaching out to her and is ready to talk this out. He doesn't even acknowledge Luna when he walks up. Only has eyes for his girl. Sorry Luna LOL He can’t be away from her any longer. Tim extending his hand asking her to dance wordlessly. That silent communication of their's in full force. My heart.

I adore how Luna is looking at them when Lucy gets up. Lucy looks back and gets her nod of approval. Like go make up with your man honey. Love Lucy’s smile knowing how Tim coming to her is a huge deal. My god how this man has grown. Makes me happy to no end. The music once again *chef kiss* This song is glorious in it's perfection for this scene. I'll never hear this song the same way again that's for sure. It'll bring me right back to this moment.

From here on out it is all hands hands hands. I saw someone make a tag of *pterodactyl screeching* for this scene. Made me cackle. If that isn’t the fandom in this moment. Eric and Melissa are so good at the little things that make us lose our damn minds. The way he softly takes her hand in his. How she can’t keep hers off him from minute they hit the dance floor. I don’t blame her my hands would be all over him too. I love how they get lost in one another instantly. Looks at those smiles above.

These two couldn't be happier to be near each other. Their time apart has really made that craving to be close increase ten-fold. Despite the lie detector scene they’ve been apart physically since 6x01 if not longer than that. Probably pre-6x01 but post 6 weeks in his office. Haven’t really been affectionate since then either. They’re being drawn back in like a moth to the flame when they're reunited. Like they're coming up for air for the first time in forever. Been trapped in this fight for far too long.

They get so lost in being together again they almost forget they’re still in a fight. I love this so much. The one above has me swooning the most. Look at them. The way she runs her hand down his chest. The smile on his face is everything. Just so happy to have her in his arms again. How Lucy is looking at Tim. phew lord. That is a loaded look. Mixture of sheer happiness and wanting to take him to nearest closest tbh. Seems like such an intimate gaze she's throwing his way.

He's reciprocating with his own fiery intensity. *fans self* Forgetting they are indeed in public. I love how they sway in perfect tandem together. Gah if you wanted to know what utter perfection and chemistry looked like. Go no further than this gif. Look at these stunning humans just exuding their attraction for one other. Beautiful thing to behold. Saying so much with just their incredible physical chemistry. Sweet lord we are so lucky to have Eric and Melissa helming this ship.

Tim is the one to break the silence. Finally admitting after episodes of sheer frustration last year, he isn’t ok with her being UC. That he’s more conflicted than he realized. He truly thought he was ok enough about it. Enough that he could pass a lie detector test. He wouldn’t have done it if he thought it would’ve proved him wrong. In his heart of hearts he thought he was ok adjacent lol

His suppressed feelings for months coming out in his answer. Lucy is very kind in her reply to him. Letting him know it’s understandable. That it was so horrible how could be possibly be over that? I love her fingers climbing up and down his lapel the entire time. Gripping it when she needs it. Almost as if touching him constantly is going to ground her in this moment. Which I think it is. Being near him always been a comfort to her.

I couldn’t be prouder of him if I tried in this portion. Tim growth moments are my fav moments. To not only tell her 'Hey you were right.' but to admit to being wrong. Tim Bradford just admitted to being wrong. Man must be in love baha Tim being even more amazing in growth won’t take the out she's given him.

Stating it’s not fair to her. That he needs to deal with it. He takes it even one step further. Telling her that her dream shouldn’t have anything to do with his issues. What a man. How Lucy doesn’t pull him into the nearest closet/room for make up sex right then and there idk haha Has more will power than I would.

Lucy is touched by his honesty and owning his part in this UC fight. It’s written all over her face when she says ‘Thank you.’ The ‘hands hands hands’ continues and I’m all but squealing. Look at her fingers at back of his neck/head and all over his hair. Her other hand coming up to stroke his bicep too. I’m dying here of cloud 9 happiness.

The way she strokes the back of his head while she’s comforting him. I cannot you guys. It’s so soft and cute. I’m dead. Here lies Caitlin- Cause Chenford was off the charts cute and she imploded. Happily take that death all damn day. The way she tells him they’re gonna get through this. My heart. She truly would’ve gone through ANYTHING for him. Thought they truly could recover from any conflict. Weather any storm as long as they're together.

Look at Tim and the way he's smiling down at her in that second gif. He believes it too because she does. Ugh. Makes what happens in 6x06 hurt all that more. But let’s not think about that too much. I wanna live here for awhile and avoid that until I literally can’t and we’ve reached 6x06 lol I can't get over her fingers in his hair you guys. The way she is sweetly caressing his neck and arm. Some fanfic goodness IRL. My damn heart. I'm not crying you are.

If this scene wasn't amazing enough we reach Lucy's ILY and it's GLORIOUS. The way she searches his face and makes sure he can see it. That it’s splayed all over her face how much she loves him. Her heart eyes on full blast for him. She once again is caressing the back of his neck as she says it too. Then we get the sweet kiss to follow it *heart clutch* I’m weeping at how beautiful this scene is. The writers really did us justice with this moment. Eric and Melissa knocked it out of the park and then some. Always elevating the material given to them in so many ways.

Her hand on his face as they continue to sway in tandem. Her thumb running down his jawline tenderly. The way he’s looking down at Lucy gets me in the feels hard. Like he can’t believe this beautiful woman loves him warts and all. He’s in complete awe of her in this moment. So happy this incredible woman has chosen to love him. The vulnerability he is displaying here is a sight to see. Truly proof of how she obliterated his wall and then some.

The sweet smile he gives her at the end. *squee* He’s ecstatic she loves him despite their issues. Despite his issues. Constantly blown away by the woman in his arms. Lucy returning his expression in kind. Looking up at him like he's the best thing that's ever happened to her. Because well he is. Her loving smile while looking up at him. I'm dying. It's why the man is puddle right now.

Wouldn’t be Tim if he didn’t follow up with a goobery joke though. Because she brings that side out in him like no other. Let us also enjoy how Lucy still can’t keep her hands off his lapel btw. Or him in general really. I can’t stop focusing on the hands and how they’re all over each other. His crack about the lie detector is pretty damn cute. A great way to finally end the tension between them.

It’s the way Lucy laughs and slaps that same hand, with her DOD ring on his chest, that gets me. She loves this ridiculous goober of a man so much. Their physical chemistry is unreal. Never seen any other like it. Tim is beaming down at her. So happy to have made her laugh the way he did. Her laughter is music to his ears. Mine too. If you weren’t grinning ear to ear after that joke you’re dead inside LOL This part is so sweet I’m diabetic.

Aaron sadly ruins the moment with his drunk ass. We immediately see soft, funny, and light Tim disappear instantly. Fierce protector Tim emerges as he pulls Lucy close to him. Never letting his hand leave her waist as he scolds Aaron. Pulling her closer and closer as he does. And uses his other arm to keep Aaron away from Lucy. I love it so much. Once again it’s the little things our captains do so damn well. We eat it up like candy haha

Celina takes off after a call solo. Idk why she would after everything happened with Aaron in 5x22. But Nolan is her T.O. So… Thought we made it a review without a Nolan pot shot didn’t you? Well I snuck one in. #noregrets

Anyways we watch our couple emerge from an unseen area. Smiles for days on Lucy's face. Which we all took as they had make up sex and we’re seeing the afterglow of that heh. It’s where all our minds went and I love it. D is writing a fic based on that. Idk when but I cannot wait for that. *cough* please write it next bestie.*cough*. They all go into cop mode like the BAMFS they all are about Celina. Except Aaron he’s sidelined by Tim for being hammered. Poor sweet Aaron is a struggle bus.

They save Celina and our ship looks amazing as they do it of course. Didn't have room for that great shot of them. Gives me all the feels Lucy showing up to the scene with Tim in his truck. That little things theme continues. Also Tim in his tie and badge showing? Yum. Gimme. To quote ZZ Top ‘ Cause every girl crazy bout a sharp dressed man.’ Mmm. And that concludes the ep Chenford wise.

Phew that was a doozy to write. Their content heavy ones always are I hope did it justice had fun writing it. They beyond delivered with this 100th ep. It’s memorable for so many reasons and we got loads of moments from it. Something did wanna touch on that I didn’t love during their dance. I didn’t love the blame squarely being on just Tim for their fight. Lucy had a hand in it too. Tim deserved an apology too. Other than that its perfect. Now I’m wondering if they’re gonna touch on her mental health stuff more in S7. Because there was a lot of build up to it in this entire season. I’m hoping they do cause they put her through damn ringer this season. Gotta have a pay off or some sort like Tim’s did.

Thank you forever and always to those who read, comment, like and reblog these reviews. They do my heart real good when you do. You are the reason I do them. So thank you. Shall see you all in 6x03 :)

~~~

Side notes- non Chenford

The cold open LOL It’s fantastic. Cop cutie is so funny I love it. Nolan’s reaction is hilarious. Just walks away ahaha while Celina jams out.

Harper telling Lucy to ‘run.’ at the bachelorette party had me rolling. Mekia has great dead pan comedic timing. I adore her for it.

I love Nyla looking out for Celina with Aaron. She’s such a good mentor. Telling her Being Aaron's only support is a slow poison. It's true I've been there.

They all looked amazing for this wedding. We have the most beautiful cast. End to end.

The music at the wedding primo. John Mayer, Young MC and Alicia keys. Solid af. Good job James haha

[quoththemaiden]

A short (~1k) scene inspired by Chapter 9 of @mrghostrat's absolutely glorious Big Name Feelings human AU fic. Hope you like arms?

"C'mon, angel, not even gonna crack a smile at that one? Whales, get it? Whales."

Aziraphale felt like his cheeks were on fire from trying to keep a straight face at Crowley's increasingly terrible puns. "I would hate to tacitly encourage this behavior."

"Pfft, you love it." Crowley grinned at him, far past being undaunted and fully into the realm of being energized by Aziraphale's failed attempts at stoicism.

"You're utterly ridiculous." Aziraphale didn't even bother trying to make it sound like an insult, and the half of the screen taken up by his webcam made it clear his cheeks were as pink as they felt. "And I can't help but feel like you're stalling. Hadn't we agreed to be actually productive today?" Aziraphale didn't mind, really; he did want to keep making steady progress on his art, but if his life could consist of coming home from work and just unwinding with Crowley...

...but, well, that wasn't the purpose of this call.

Crowley groaned. "Yeah, yeah. What a taskmaster."

"It is my job to protect you from rabid fans, after all," Aziraphale teased right back.

"O Brave Guardian, protect me from procrastination!"

"That sounds rather harder than a dragon, I'm afraid. But if you don't get to work, I won't be able to work either, and then you won't get to see the finished piece."

"Urk—" Crowley made a strangled noise and finally reached for his mouse. "You'll actually be working on it?"

Aziraphale nodded before adjusting his webcam to show his tablet a bit more. "I really need to get more practice with this, to get half as confident as I am with physical paints."

"I've seen the drawings you've done! They're fucking brilliant."

Aziraphale laughed. "You've said that about everything I've shown you. I'm starting to think I should send you some stick figures as a test."

"Those would be the most adorable fucking stick figures ever. You could draw a whole comic of just stick figures and I'd reblog it a hundred times."

"That's about what I'd expect you to say, yes." Crowley opened his mouth to protest that his compliments were always earnest, and Aziraphale cut him off. "Weren't you going to start writing?"

"Ngghh, right, yeah. Alright, lemme just pull up my docs and then we'll get started bodydoubling for real." Crowley clicked over to screenshare his window as he opened his fic notes. He'd long since stopped hiding anything from Aziraphale; getting to bounce ideas off of him was too invigorating, and his heart always sang at getting to write down his name with official beta credit. (He'd also long since stopped pretending to himself that he'd ever felt quite the same way about any other beta.)

"Good lord." Aziraphale sounded more than faintly appalled, and Crowley felt offended for a moment before taking a proper look at what was on his screen. It was currently showing the notes he'd made at 3 AM this morning, when he'd woken up from a dream and jotted down what had, at the time, felt like a brilliant scene. As always, he'd had his eyes mostly-closed the whole time and his swipes had been clumsy at best, but as long as it got the general point across, he was always satisfied. It only wound up being a usable scene about half the time, but he wasn't about to turn down free inspiration when he could get it. He quickly read through the imagery he'd written down.

They switch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the still morning sunlight they could set the witchfinder still sleeping cloudy enough to touch: his head ears cradled on his arms, the  misos slack with sleep but still clearly there under surface. The words knew from experience that if he were awakened stable the strength would flour back into them in an instant ray for a fight. The wishes couldn't help but think odd other things they might but tray for as well

Crowley paled. "I— that—"

"I mean, it's. Well. It's rather avant-garde."

Crowley froze. "I, uh—"

"'The misos?' And 'flour?'"

Crowley stuttered out of his bluescreen and hastily opened another tab, the screenshare automatically switching over. Aziraphale had read it, but he clearly hadn't actually understood it. As long as he didn't give him enough time to crack the cipher that was 3 AM notetaking, Crowley could bluff his way through it. "Zuh. Yeah. Wrote that down in the middle of the night when I got an idea of where I wanted to start the next scene off."

"And you could recognize any of that?" The camera jostled a little as Aziraphale shook his head. "I suppose I wouldn't do any better if I tried sketching out an idea in the dark." He picked up his stylus and started doodling simple shapes, warming up and re-acclimatizing himself to the responsiveness of the device. He was still getting used to the new medium, but he was finally starting to see a path forward to making a digital art style that felt authentically his own.

"Yessss." Crowley bit his tongue to cut off the guilty hissing. It definitely didn't help that the webcam was doing a very awkward job of catching the tablet screen but showed a very distracting hint of Aziraphale's forearms. The forearms he had, at 3 AM, apparently woken up from a dream about and been so inspired by that he'd felt the need to immortalize them in fanfiction.

"Well, I shall be interested in seeing how that gets transformed into comprehensible English."

"Right, definitely." Crowley was typing gibberish and backspacing over it quickly, more to hide how much attention he was having to devote to this conversation than out of an actual need to warm up his fingers. "Right, definitely focusing on writing now!"

Aziraphale laughed as he cleared his tablet screen and pulled up his WIP, shifting into concentration mode himself. He did enjoy the early days they had spent where their hours of "bodydoubling" were really nothing more than talking and laughing together, but being able to be quietly productive with someone else, knowing they were there with you without needing to be in the same room, that they were sharing your same wavelength without needing to say a word... that simple sense of togetherness brought with it such a deep feeling of comfort that he thought it might be an even more profound, longer-lasting sense of joy than their early days of giddy laughter had given. The strokes of his stylus turned smoother and more confident as he got into the flow, his eyes focused on his own screen and only vaguely aware of the lines of text growing across Crowley's.

Eventually, Crowley calmed down as well, and the text growing on his screen even started to make sense. And he made sure it had absolutely nothing to do with forearms.

--

Translation of the deleted 3 AM scene:

The witch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the early morning sunlight, they could see the witchfinder still sleeping close enough to touch. His head was cradled on his arms, the muscles slack with sleep but still clearly there under the surface. The witch knew from experience that if he were awakened, the strength would flow back into them in an instant, ready for a fight. The witch couldn't help but think of other things they might be ready for as well.